Ron and Hermione: A Life Lived
by silverbirch
Summary: Follow Ron and Hermione through their lives, starting after the defeat of Voldemort. There will be good times and bad. Highs and Lows. Life, really.
1. After the battle

If things go to plan, this story will follow Ron and Hermione throughout their lives.

I don't own any of it, of course. As if

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They stood, completely alone, at the foot of the stairs leading to the Headmaster's office, leaning against each other in a fog of exhaustion. It had been over 30 hours since they had last slept. Harry had walked off, muttering something about a sandwich, but they just wanted to sleep.

The journey back to Gryffindor Tower felt like an eternity. They were too tired to even notice the damage and dark stains surrounding them. At the picture, they paused.

'We're sorry, we don't know the password.'

'Oh, you two don't need that.' The fat lady smiled at them, fresh tears running down her face. 'Welcome home dears. The other one's already gone inside.'

The Common Room had hardly changed at all in the past year. It did feel like home to them. At the foot of the dormitory stairs, they paused.

'Ron, I don't want to be on my own.'

'Neither do I.'

They made their way up the boy's staircase, pushing open the door to the First Year dormitory, knowing it would be empty. Lying on the nearest bed, Ron gathered Hermione in to his arms, and they fell instantly asleep. Their exhaustion was so complete they didn't even have the energy to dream.

It was approaching evening when they awoke. Making their way down to the Great Hall, they notice how quiet the castle was. The crowds had gone. Those who were able to had started to go home. Professor McGonagall was still there though, walking around, looking at the school which had been her life. She occasional stopped to touch a statue or a piece of damaged masonry, as if comforting it. She looked deathly tired herself.

'Ah, Weasley, Miss Granger.' Her smile was small and sad. 'I'm afraid it's all a bit of a mess, isn't it? Mr. Weasley, your father could not find you. He asked if I would tell you they have gone home, taking your brother with them. I would like to extend my sincerest condolences to you.'

It was Hermione who spoke first. 'You have to go to them Ron. They need you, and you need to be with them. I'll stay and help the Professor. I've nowhere else to go, and the school will re-open again, won't it? It must do.'

'I want you with me, Hermione' said Ron.

'No, Ron. Not this time. You have to be with your family, your mum will need you, and it's not right that I should be there. Not yet. I'll come down as soon as I can.'

'You know she'd welcome you.'

'I'm not family, not quite yet. Go. I'll see you very soon.'

She put her arms around him and they kissed. There was a small cough in the background. 'Sorry, Professor.'

-o0o-

Hermione made her way to the hospital wing. That was where help was most urgently needed. Healers that could be spared had started to arrive from St. Mungo's, but there were many more casualties than could be dealt with, and any additional hands were gratefully accepted.

Madam Pomfrey had a job for her.

'My dear, I don't know if I should ask this of you, but we have one patient who is unlikely to survive, a pupil here. Would you be willing to sit with her? It would be a comfort.'

Hermione steeled herself and walked through the curtains surrounding the bed. She almost turned and ran, for in front of her lay Lavender Brown.

'Hermione, you came to see me.' Lavender's voice was little more than a whisper.

Hermione forced herself to look at her former rival. Her face had been horrible mauled, and body battered. Blood still caked her hair. That hadn't been a priority. Hermione remembered how proud Lavender had been of her blonde hair.

'Of course I came to see you. We're friends, aren't we?' She had to force herself not to cry.

'Are we, even after what happened? I want you to know I didn't do that to hurt you, I'm so sorry it was you.'

Hermione sat in the chair by the bed, taking Lavender's hand.

'Shh. Shh. You don't have to apologise. I know. Of course I'm your friend. We always have been, haven't we?'

'We had some good times, didn't we Hermione. We used to laugh a lot when we were younger, do you remember?'

'Yes, of course. Do you remember the Yule Ball, and you helped me with my hair? We had fun that day, getting ready.'

'And do you remember how we were all trying to push each other away from the mirror so we could see how we looked?' Lavender's attempt at a smile was cut short as a spasm of pain hit her. 'It's been worth it, hasn't it? Fighting Voldemort?'

'Yes, Lavender, it has. Because of us, our children will never have to go through this.'

'Your children, Hermione. You and Ron. It's too late for me.'

'No it isn't, of course it isn't. When you get better, we'll go to Hogsmeade, or even London. We'll go to London and hit the shops. We'll try on all the dresses, and you can tell me what suits me. Just the two of us.'

Lavender struggled to speak through the pain, never taking her eyes off Hermione's face. 'I'd like that. Just us two.' She paused, fighting the pain. 'Look after him, won't you? Promise me.' Then she gave a great shuddering sigh and fell silent. Lavender Brown, Order of Merlin (posthumous) lay dead.

'I promise, Lavender. I'll look after him.'

She made her way out in to the ward to report to Madam Pomfrey.

'Thank you. I'll have her moved to the mortuary. Can you take this potion to the patient in bed seven? He needs to drink it all.'

'Didn't you hear me? She's dead!! I was with her. You can't move her.' Hermione put her face in her hands and cried. Madam Pomfrey pulled her hands away, forcing her to look up.

'I heard you. We have to put that behind us. We have to be hard. That bed is needed; we have to consider the living.' She gave Hermione a quick hug, and then said, very gently 'Bed seven?' Hermione nodded.

-o0o-

Hermione worked 24 hours non stop, it was a way of avoiding the suffering she knew would come. However, by that evening, things in the hospital were under control. More healers had arrived, and those patients who could be moved, or were not too serious, had been transported to St. Mungos.

She was thanked by the nurse, who told her she was grateful for Hermione's efforts, and went back to Gryffindor Tower. Harry and Neville were sat there. She walked over to Harry, putting her arms out like a small child asking to be picked up. He hugged her and she cried in to his shoulder.

'Oh Harry, I didn't think it would be like this.'

He held her tight. 'Nor did I. I thought we would be celebrating, and things would go back to the way they were. I didn't know the pain would carry on.'

Neville came over, wrapping his arms around both of them. 'It will never be the same, but it will get better. The pain will get less eventually. It will never go away completely, but we'll be able to handle it.' Neville had been sorted in to Gryffindor for a reason.

Hermione went up to her dormitory, back to her old bed, but couldn't stay there. The next bed had been Lavender's and her combs and make-up were still on the side table. She went back down to the common room, and back to Harry's arms.

'Can I stay with you tonight, please?' She slumped against him in sheer exhaustion.

Harry picked her up and carried her upstairs. 'You don't have a problem with that, do you Neville?' Neville shook his head. Harry laid her on Ron's bed, covering her over with blankets that, even after a year, still smelt faintly of him.

Harry stroked her hair back from her face. 'I'll look after you, big sister.'

'But who'll look after you, little brother?'

'I'm OK; I'm the chosen one, so they tell me.'

She slept, but was woken in the small hours by Harry crying and calling out. She went to his bed and took him in her arms. 'Sleep, Harry. I'll look after you. Sleep now.' He did.

-o0o-

Things did seem a little bit better the next morning. The three friends made their way down to breakfast, discussing the future. After all, they were young, and the young are tougher than people give them credit for. They bounce back. Neville was staying on, to help Professor Sprout. Harry was staying to carry on working getting the castle ready for September. He'd spent yesterday helping Filch replace gargoyles that had been knocked down in the battle.

'You know, we're getting on quite well, now I'm not a pupil. Mind you' he suddenly giggled behind his hand 'he hasn't noticed yet I've transfigured them all so they look like him!'

Hermione decided she was going to "The Burrow", and went to find McGonagall to tell her.

'I will come down for the funeral, of course. I shall attend as many as possible. Especially those of former students. And after that, Miss Granger? Will you come back to take your NEWTS?'

This was something Hermione hadn't considered. 'I have to find my parents, first. They're somewhere in Australia. I didn't think I'd be able to come back though.'

'We will make special arrangements for those who wish to. Last year was so disrupted, we must do. Of course, there will be a lot of first years who will be starting late as well. I will be a difficult year. We need an outstanding Head Girl and who better than you?'

Hermione was almost speechless. 'I'll be back. Thank you.'


	2. Goodbyes

Ron lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He'd been like that since shortly after returning from Hogwarts. His parents were still in the sitting room, keeping vigil over Fred's body.

Percy was in the kitchen, wracked by guilt. He blamed himself for Fred's death. 'If I hadn't made that stupid comment, he'd still be alive.' That was all he said in answer to anything. George had disappeared in to his room with a bottle of firewhisky, and hadn't been seen since. Ginny was the same, except with her it had been food. Anything she could carry up the stairs. Only Charlie seemed to have a grip on things. He was trying to keep them together.

Ron was missing Hermione, that was the problem. He'd got used to having her around him, keeping him going. That last night together in the dorm had finally shown him what she meant to him. It had felt right having her in his arms. It was where she belonged, and now she wasn't here.

He roused himself and went downstairs. The door to the sitting room was shut. He knew there was no point trying to go in. They'd locked in shut with a spell nobody could break. Even Bill had come up to try, with no success. He went through in to the kitchen; Percy was sat at the table.

'Any food going, Perce?'

'How can you think of eating at a time like this? Don't you know who's in the sitting room? Of course, if it wasn't for me…'

'SHUT UP!!' He banged his fist on the table in frustration. 'Why don't you just shut up for once? Blame yourself if you want. Wallow for the rest of your life for all I care, but leave me out of it!! Fred's dead, and we have to face it, and get on with our lives.'

He stormed out of the front door and sat down in the garden, his head buried in his arms. A hand rested lightly on his shoulder.

'Looks like I turned up at the right time.' Hermione had arrived.

-o0o-

Hermione walked around the house, not saying anything. Then she went to the sitting room door and knocked.

'It's no use, they won't let you in, and we've all tried.'

She smiled at him. 'I think they will.' She knocked again. 'Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, its Hermione. Can I come in? I need your help.'

The door open, and Hermione stepped through. It closed behind her. Ten minutes later, it opened again, and the three of them came out. She had her arms around Ron's parents. She never told anybody what had happened in there.

Mrs. Weasley walked in to the kitchen and began getting out saucepans.

'Charlie, dear, will you floo Bill and Fleur? We'd like them to join us. Then please go and get Ginny and George.'

It was a simple meal, mostly eaten in silence. At the end of it, Mr. Weasley stood and cleared his throat. He looked confused, sad and ashamed.

'We've lost our son, and you have lost your brother. But we still have a family, and we must never forget that.' He looked at Hermione. 'Sometimes you need reminding. This is not what he would have wanted. We shall not let him down.'

Ron and Hermione went for a walk after dinner, not saying much, just drawing comfort from each others presence. Hermione told Ron about Lavender, he needed to know, but didn't mention the promise; she didn't think it was the right time. On their return to the house, Molly took Hermione to one side, looking troubled.

'Hermione, dear, you know I think of you as family, but …you and Ron, um...the thing is…of course I don't want to pry…'

'I think I should get my things upstairs Mrs. Weasley, they're blocking the hall. Can I go in with Ginny again? I'd like a chance to talk to her.'

Molly looked very relieved.

-o0o-

Fred's funeral took place two days later. It was a very simple occasion and everybody tried to make it a celebration of his life. It's what he would have wanted. Some of them almost succeeded. Harry was there, of course, and stayed overnight. Molly and Arthur were very pleased he turned up. At dinner that evening, Molly looked round the table with tears in her eyes. 'I've got all my family around me.'

It was Ginny's turn to take a walk afterwards, with Harry, and they returned arm in arm, having come to some arrangement which obviously suited them. Molly was in the kitchen with Hermione when they came in.

'You know, dear, I think Arthur and I will need to have a little chat before long. You're all growing up and we might need to shift things around a bit.' Hermione tried to look all innocent and confused. Molly laughed and said 'I know we're ancient, but you don't honestly think we still believe in gooseberry bushes, do you?'

Hermione blushed. 'We're not…well, you know…we haven't, honestly.'

'In your own time, of course, Hermione, if that's what you two decide. Just tip me the wink will you, to save any embarrassment?'

The funerals carried on for some time; often they were attending two or three in a day. Colin Creevey's was very poignant. Colin's brother Denis had taken Harry to one side and quietly asked if he would help carry the coffin, and Harry agreed. It was a comfort to Colin's parents, they'd heard so much about Harry from Colin, but had never quite believed he could have such a famous person as his best friend. Now they had the proof, and knew their son had been happy.

Hermione and Harry returned to Hogwarts as things slowed down, although they knew they were more than welcome to stay at "The Burrow". Work still needed doing there and, with Hermione as Head Girl elect, she felt it was her duty. Harry went because it was his first home and he wanted to help. Ron came up when he could, but was already helping George get the business back on its feet. There was a lot to do, simply to get the shop restocked, and they wanted to be ready for the pre-term rush.

Hermione needed to be at Hogwarts anyway to speak to McGonagall, she had an urgent matter to attend to – getting her parents back. She needed a portkey organising.

"Oh, my dear, you can't, I'm afraid. The Ministry is still in a hiatus, and there is no chance they would be able to organise the series of them you would need to travel that far. No, I think the Muggle way would be best for now. You will have to fly by aeroplane. The Ministry could probably run to organising a passport, but you probably already have one."

Fourteen months ago, when she had created Wendell and Monica and sent them to safety in Australia, Hermione had assumed she could use magic to get them back – assuming everything had worked out. None of her plans had allowed for any access to their money, and all she had was the few pounds remaining from her Building Society savings. She knew that flying to the other side of the world would cost more than she had, much more, and there was no way of getting it. A loan was out of the question. She had no credit status, and nothing to back the loan in either the Muggle or Magical world. She hardly thought, anyway, that she would be warmly welcomed in Gringott's.

'Hello, you may not remember me. I broke in a few months ago, stole a dragon and destroyed the entrance hall. Can I borrow a few thousand Galleons, please?'

Harry had returned to the Common Room after a hard day helping to rebuild the castle, and transfiguring a few more statues. Filch still hadn't seen. He found Hermione in tears and sat down beside her, putting his arm around her shoulder.

'Tell your little brother all about it, I can't have you crying. Has one of the bigger boys been nasty to you?'

'Oh, Harry' she whispered, 'I can't get my parents back. I don't have the money, and there isn't a port key. They're stranded. Well, they're not. They don't know it, and I miss them.'

'That's not a problem' he said, offering her his hanky. She looked at it as if it were a snarglepuff, and got out her own. 'I'll lend you the money, how much do you need?'

'Harry, you can't! I'm not talking a few sickles, I'll need a couple of thousand Galleons at least.'

'Will two thousand get you _and_ Ron out there?'

She suddenly looked very Hermione-ish. 'I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself, Harry.'

'I know you are, Hermione. But he isn't. You'd better take him with you.'

-o0o-

The money was the easy part. Trying to lend it to Hermione had proven the problem. She wanted a "proper" loan agreement, and the first draft, presented to him that evening, looked like one of her Arithmancy essays.

'Hermione, I can't read this! Which one am I meant to be? The party of the first part or the party of the second? Why don't I just give you the money?'

'Harry, we need to have a proper agreement. We're friends, and I won't let us fall out over money.'

'OK, OK' He'd long since given up trying to win an argument with her 'But I'll write it.'

He picked up a piece of parchment and a quill, saying the words out loud as he wrote.

'Harry James Potter will lend Hermione Jane Granger Five Thousand Galleons to be repaid in full before his 100th birthday without interest.'

'But … Harry … no, that's not the proper…'

He ignored her and carried on writing.

'The first part of the party part will be before her departure to foreign climes, and the second part of the party will be on her return. Right, sign there.'

One advantage of being the "The Chosen One Who Saved the World" or whatever rot "The Prophet" was calling him these days was that Harry Potter had a _lot_ of influential friends. He made sure to copy Kingsley Shacklebolt on his request to Gringotts to transfer the required Galleons, in Sterling equivalent through their Muggle facing bank, to an account in Hermione's name. He received an owl by return, saying that this had been done, and that a line of credit had also been opened with an Australian bank for her. There was also a rather subtle PS which read "In view of the circumstances, the Directors of Gringott's Bank are willing, on this occasion, to let bygones be bygones. Try it again and we'll skin you alive, Potter"

Kingsley also came up trumps with a passport for Ron with a proper muggle photo, and a letter of introduction to the Australian Ministry of Magic for Hermione. He'd also told them that they were being met at the airport by an old friend, and gave them the code words they would need. It was, he said, just a precaution.

That was it, everything was booked and they were ready to go.


	3. Hellos

The journey to Australia was rather tiring for Hermione. Ron had been like a two year old. Before they'd even got to the gate, he'd tried to put himself through the X-ray machine in security, and she had to keep elbowing him every time he starting saying "These Muggle inventions...Dad'd love them!' Worst still, on the plane, he'd gone in to ecstasies about the "vellytision" and the films they were showing.

'I didn't know Muggles have moving pictures like us!! Why didn't you tell me? We've got to get one of these when we get back.' She pointed out that you needed ekeltrikity in the house first.

After clearing immigration at Sydney Airport, they walked through to Arrivals to see somebody holding up a card with their names on. He was a rather muscular man, wearing a dark suit, black tie and sunglasses, incongruous amongst the others who were waiting.

'Hermione and Ron? Has the Minister rebuilt the Atrium?'

'All but the fountain.'

'Flourish and Blotts has a half price sale.'

'I'd rather go to Madame Malkins.'

The man smiled. 'G'day, both of you. Welcome to Australia. I'm Mike, from the Aurors Department. I've been asked to help you out whilst you're here. '

Ron drew Hermione closer to him, and looked nervous. He asked if the cloak and dagger stuff was necessary.

'Aw look, we didn't have too many problems out here with his lot, but some of the older families might have a leaning that way. We've been keeping tabs on them, just in case. You'll find we're a bit more integrated over here than you in Britain, no offence. We're just being careful. It could be a bit embarrassing for us if anything happened to you two on our patch. I've got a car outside, and we've booked you a couple of rooms to get you started.'

Just then, his pocket started playing "Waltzing Matilda". Ron jumped, but Mike simply answered his mobile. 'Yes, they're with me, I'm taking them to Base 1'.

'Hermione, did you see that? He's got a fellytone in his pocket!! We've got to get one of those!'

They were taken to a rather impressive hotel near the harbour. Mike came in with them to confirm all was in order. They'd been given adjoining rooms. Mike muttered something about the exact requirements not being made clear, so this was a sort of compromise.

'Right, I'll leave you guys to get some rest. I'll pick you up a 9 in the morning, if that's OK. The Minister has asked to meet you. Enjoy Sydney, there are some good restaurants around here. By the way, if you do go out, you might notice you're being followed. Mind you, if you do notice, let me know and I'll give the guys hell. They should be better than that!! Give them this hand signal' he demonstrated 'they'll return it. Sleep well'

-o0o-

Hermione eventually managed to drag Ron away from the vellytision long enough for them to go for a walk. Sydney at that time of year was very similar to an English spring, and they were quite comfortable with just a sweatshirt on. It's very beautiful around the harbour area, and they spent some time looking at the bridge and opera house. They weren't aware of being followed, though Ron kept looking. The first six people he gave the hand signal to looked at him strangely. So Hermione told him to stop it. They ate dinner in the hotel.

The next morning found Mike in the reception bang on 9 for the trip to the Ministry. They turned up at a fairly new building belonging to the Ministry of Intra-cooperative Affairs. Australians didn't know what it was either. Although they were on the ground floor, the lift took them down, and they stepped out in to the Ministry of Magic.

The Minister was a strongly built man, with cropped ginger hair. They chatted for a few moments about the trip and hotel and Sydney. He asked after Kingsley. The two had met when the Minister had been sent to Britain many years ago during his auror training. He also revealed that they were doing everything possible to keep the press in the dark about their visit.

'The press?' asked Hermione. 'Why would they be interested in us?'

'Stewth, two of the "Golden Trio" here in Oz? They'd be all over you. We've been hearing all about what happened in Britain. To be honest, I think we could have done more to help, but everything sort of happened a bit too quick. You two, along with Harry Potter, are probably better known than I am!'

'Well, hopefully we can pick up my parents, then go. I want to back for the start of term. Um, not that we don't want to stay, of course.' Hermione thought she may have sounded a bit ungrateful, but the Minister just laughed.

'No problem, I understand. You might have to stay for a bit, anyway.'

'Why, there isn't a problem, is there?'

'Well, no, not a problem, as such.' The Minister rubbed the back of his neck. 'It's just that, well, we don't know where they are. From the information we received, we assumed they'd come here to set up a dental practice. That's what you'd instructed them to do, yes? I assume you put them under an Imperius?'

'Yes, with a memory modification, and a slight Confundus.'

'Good combination, but it didn't quite work though. We know they landed in Sydney, then, well, they bought a Combi and headed off. They arrive in a place, stay a couple of days, and then push through. The trail went cold on us after we'd tracked them to Alice. Trouble is, from there, they could head off anywhere. We'll find them, don't worry, but it might take some time. In the meantime, have a holiday, you sound as if you've earned it.'

Hermione was a little fractious when they got back to the hotel, obviously worried her parents. Ron tried to calm her down.

'Look, we know they're here, they're being looked for, and we'll find them. The Minister's right, we should have a holiday, it will do us good.'

It did, it had been a long time since they had had a proper holiday. They visited the harbour and went on a boat trip, and went to the zoo to look at kangaroos and koalas. That weekend, Mike threw an impromptu barbie for them, inviting a few other people from the Ministry. It turned out that Mike wasn't just an auror, he was actually Head of Department. Ron had a long conversation with him on the subject, and Hermione got on well with his daughter who was just older than her. It was a wonderful evening, and the Minister himself turned up. Everyone called him Chris. It seemed much more relaxed and informal than Britain.

On the Tuesday of that week, Ron and Hermione decided to go out for a meal, and sample some of the famous Australian seafood. They found a restaurant with superb views over the harbour and decided to eat out on the terrace. It was one of those perfect evenings where everything just went right. The food, the wine, the setting, each other. They found themselves, almost to their surprise, to be very much in love.

Back at the hotel, they stopped outside Hermione's door to say their goodnights. Ron broke away, eventually.

'Wow. Listen, I think we'd better stop there, don't you. I'd better go.'

'Oh Ron, this is silly.' Hermione opened her bedroom door, took Ron's hand, and led him inside. The door shut behind them.

-o0o-

Things were a little awkward the next morning. Hermione tried wrapping a sheet round herself before she went to the bathroom.

Ron sniggered. 'What are you doing that for?'

She wouldn't look at him. 'I'm shy.'

'Tell you what, I'll go back to my room, then we can go down to breakfast once you're ready. Knock on the wall.'

They had trouble catching each others eye in the dining room, and Hermione got a little paranoid everyone was looking at her, because _they knew_. She thought she may as well walk around holding a sign saying "Ex-virgin".

'Hermione, I've been thinking…'

'Oh no, now we're in trouble.'

'Ha ha. That's what I've been thinking about. You aren't, are you? I mean, you couldn't be… you know?

'No Ron. I used the charm.'

'What charm? I don't remember being taught anything about that sort of thing.'

'You weren't in the lesson, it was girls only.'

'You never told us about it.'

Hermione spluttered. 'Ron! That is not the sort of thing we were going to rush back to the common room to tell a lot of boys about! Mind you, I did say that I'd tell your mum, when it happened.'

'WHAT!?' Quite a few people turned to look at them. Ron dropped his voice to a whisper. 'You are joking, aren't you? She'd kill me. Well, once she'd finished with you, leading her little boy astray.'

'Oh honestly, Ron. We'd discussed it a while back. She asked me to "tip her the wink" to save any embarrassment, you know, the next time we stay. So we don't have to have separate rooms. That is, assuming you want to again, I mean, I'm not forcing you, if you didn't want to, because… well, maybe it was just a mistake and we got carried away. Oh god. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said... I …'

He put his hand on hers. 'Hermione, I never want to be parted from you ever again. I've finally got you, and I never want to let go. I've loved you since fourth year. I realised that when you went to the ball with Krum. Of course, being me, I had to be a bit stupid about it and take my time, and then get involved with Lavender, but I loved you all the time. What finally made me realise was when we were at the Malfoys. I learned then that I loved you more than I loved myself.'

'I know Ron. I heard you. That's what kept me going. I had to survive, because otherwise, I'd never see you again.'

They decided not to go out that day. By the time they came down for dinner, she wasn't shy any more.

-o0o-

They got back from Manly beach a few days later to find a message from Mike. They rushed to their room and Hermione dialled the number.

'Mike, it's Hermione, we got your message.'

'That's good. OK, the missing items have turned up, but you'll have to go and collect them. If you can be checked out by 8:30 I'll pick you up. Don't worry about the bill, it's been settled.'

Hermione was crying into the phone. 'Oh, thank you, thank you.'

By 9 the next day they were back at the Ministry, waiting for the portkey that would take them straight to the auror office in Perth.

'We booked three rooms for you, one for you parents, and two singles.' He looked at them with a twinkle in his eye. 'I hope that's OK. The singles are next to each other.'

Hermione threw her arms around his neck. 'Oh, Mike, thank you for everything, and please thank the Minister for us. I don't know what we would have done without you.'

'Hey, no problem.' He turned to Ron. 'Don't forget our little chat, eh? There's the portkey, go.'

Two aurors were waiting for them at the other end.

'Your parents are in a small town not too far from here. Because you don't know the place, we'll take you side along, if that's OK.'

Wendell and Monica Wilkins had not been having a good day. Everything had gone wrong so far. They'd woken to find the Combi had a flat tyre. It took Wendell nearly half an hour to change it, then they'd only gone about 100 yards before another one blew. Of course, they only carried one spare, so had to get a local garage out. Now the dammed engine wouldn't start, and they'd wanted to push on up the coast that day.

They hardly noticed the two young people walking towards them as they discussed what to do next. It hardly even registered when the girl pointed a stick at them.

'Hermione?? What are you doing here? What are we doing here? Where are we? What's going on? Is that Ron with you?'

Hermione threw herself at them, laughing and crying. 'Oh Mum, Dad. It's going to take a while to explain. Why don't we find somewhere do have some tea?'

'The stupid Combi's broken down. We can't go anywhere.'

I think you'll find it's working now. Sorry about the tyres, you had to be slowed down so we could get to you.'

-o0o-

'..so I got you to sell the house and practice and move out here to start again. You weren't meant to go travelling round like a couple of old hippies.'

'You did all that just to keep us safe whilst you went off to war?' Her mum had tears in her eyes. 'Oh, darling.'

'I thought it was best. Anyway, we've got a hotel booked nearby. We should go back there and sort out what comes next.'

As they walked out to the Combi, Mrs. Granger took Hermione to one side.

'Hermione. Ron. He must be a very good friend to come all this way with you. How does he fit in?'

'He fits in really well, mum.' Hermione squealed and hid her face in her hands as she realised what an awful _double entendre_ she'd just come out with. 'No, I didn't mean...oh God.'

'Hmm. Best let me have a little chat to your father first.'


	4. An beggining, and an end

Ron and Hermione sat in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place with her parents. Harry had offered them room there whilst they sorted out somewhere to live; he wasn't using the house as he had decided to stay at Hogwarts until the start of term. In September he would return to London to begin training as an auror. Kingsley Shacklebolt had waved aside the need for NEWTS, saying Harry was qualified by experience. Besides, he wanted "Golden Boy" where he could keep an eye on him. Potter was finally going to come under Ministry control.

Mr & Mrs Granger had taken to the house very easily, and got on with Kreacher surprisingly well, probably because neither of them was that good at cooking, so he didn't have any competition. Although Hermione was staying with them, Ron had moved in to the flat in Diagon Alley with his brother. They had thought it best to be prudent, for the time being.

It was Mr Granger who started the conversation. 'So, you two, what are your future plans?'

'Well, I'm going back to Hogwarts to get my NEWTS, dad, and Ron's going to work with George. I thought you knew that.'

'That's right, Mr Granger. He's asked me to get the Hogsmeade branch up and running. It'll be a challenge, but I'm looking forward to it. I'm already thinking about moving the Owl Ordering Service up there; putting it closer to our key customer base for a faster service.' Ron was desperately keen to make a good impression on this man.

'Excellent, but what about the longer term?'

'Well, I don't know.' Ron had leapt in again. 'I'd always thought about becoming an auror, but I may have had enough of Dark Magic over the last year to last me a lifetime. If I change my mind, I could probably get in to the Ministry here on reputation alone, without NEWTS.' He looked sideways at Hermione. 'I was talking to the Head of the auror's department in Australia, whilst we were out there. He said that Britain wasn't the only country in the world and – well – I might consider dropping him a line if that's what I wanted to do.'

'Ron!! Is that what he meant by "Don't forget our little chat?" Wow, you must have really impressed him!!' Hermione thought that building Ron up in her dad's eyes couldn't do any harm.

'Well, it seems that what ever happens, you won't starve, but I was actually thinking more about your personal lives than careers.'

'Ah' thought Hermione. 'Oh' thought Ron. He decided to take the lead. This was obviously the "Are your intentions towards my daughter..." chat.

'We're still both young, Mr Granger…'

'Old enough for some things, apparently.' Ron's ears went red. 'Continue.'

'There's a lot to do over the next few years. I'll admit it; we've probably still got some growing up to do. We've been friends for a long time, but only been together for a few weeks. In that respect we hardly even know each other...'

'Oh, thanks Ron! Make it sound like we've thought this through, why don't you?'

'…but I do know I love Hermione, Mr Granger. I love her more than life itself.'

Mr. Granger raised his eyebrows. 'A very pretty speech, if you don't mind me saying so. But the saying is often easier than the doing.'

'It isn't, dad. I know he means it. Ron **would** give his life to save mine. I've had proof of it.' Her hand went subconsciously to the scar on her neck.

Mrs Granger let out a small gasp. 'Is this something that happened whilst we were away? Do we even want to know about it?'

Hermione smiled. 'It is, mum, and no, you probably don't want to know about it. I'm still trying to forget.'

Mr Granger nodded his head, as if coming to a decision.

'You'll live your life your way, of course. Just remember, Ron, you might have a wand, but I'm her dad. Look after her for me.' He held out his hand for Ron to shake. 'You've impressed me tonight.' He smiled. 'Don't forget there's more to a relationship that candlelight and holding hands. You may be willing to die for each other, but who gets the job of cleaning the toilet?'

'Ha! Look who's talking.' said Mrs Granger.

-o0o-

Hermione moved to Hogsmeade with Ron shortly afterwards. They lived in the flat over the shop, the old Zonkos which had lain empty for many years, and worked long hours getting things ready. Ron grandly announced on the first day that HE would be responsible for toilet cleaning duties.

It was a labour of love, and they loved it, starting their lives together, getting the shop ready and furnishing that first home. He paused his work to watch her. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and one of his old shirts, with her hair wrapped in a scarf to try and keep it clean.

He walked up behind her, wrapping her in his arms. 'The brightest witch of your generation, and I've got you washing down walls in a joke shop. What have I done to you? '

She leaned her head against him, turning it for a kiss. 'You've made me happier than I've ever been, Ron. That's what you've done to me.' He had to turn away to wipe his eyes. Some dust must have got in to them.

She went up to school just after lunch on the first day of term, to get ready for the train. It felt strange arriving on foot. She levitated her trunk in front of her, having decided that it would be best to stay in the dormitories. Weekend passes had been agreed. Professor McGonagall met her in the entrance hall.

'Welcome back, Miss Granger! Oh, I can't remember the last time I felt like this.' Her eyes almost twinkled. 'Our school is open again, and the shadows have lifted.' By the way, Mr Corner will be Head Boy, I'm pleased he has decided to return as well' She started to move away, and then turned back again. 'Oh, just one more thing, sleeping arrangements. Of course, the new first years will in your old room,' Hermione did not mind that at all, the memory of Lavender was still too fresh. 'and the now seventh year room is full. We've had to put you in the second year dormitory; I hope you do not mind.'

The Great Hall was getting noisier as people filed in and greeted their friends, some of whom they had not seen for over a year. There were gaps though. The Slytherin table was more than half empty. Many parents were either arrested, on the run or keeping a low profile. None of Hermione's year had returned. She noticed Dennis Creevey sitting quietly, and made sure she spoke to him.

The new first years made their way in to the hall, looking as frightened as she had been. She saw there were more than usual, and realised it was because some should have been second years already. The sorting hat spoke, not of the past but of the future, only at the end saying 'Let us never forget absent friends.'

It was an unusual sorting that year. Nobody was put in Slytherin. It would be two years before they were.

McGonagall, as Headmaster, then stood and made her speech, including the notices about the Forbidden Forest, Quidditch tryouts and the latest list of items banned by Filch. She too spoke of the future, and the need to move forward. Hermione and Michael were announced to great cheers, then the feast began.

When it was finally cleared away, Hermione helped get everybody out of the Hall and to their respective houses. On going up to her new dormitory, she found the second years already in there.

She smiled at them. 'Hello. I hope you don't mind, but I'll be sharing with you this year. I'm sure we'll all get along fine.'

'Yes, Miss' they chorused.

'It's OK, you can call me Hermione.'

'Yes, Hermione Miss' they replied.

-o0o-

Back in the common room, she was immediately button holed by Ginny.

'Is it true? Are you and Ron living together?'

'Well, sort of. I'll be staying here during term time like normal though. Do you mind?'

'No. I'm just amazed mum didn't. I thought she'd kill you both. There's hope for us all now!!'

Hermione stayed in the common room for as long as possible talking to Ginny, hoping the others would be asleep by the time she went up, but it was not to be.

She walked in to find three little faces beaming at her. One of them was clutching a teddy. They were still smiling at her as she started to undress. Groaning inwardly, she went to the bathroom to change.

Obviously, they had decided she would be lonely, so they would have to be her friends, and started talking to her. Unfortunately, the conversation took a decidedly downwards turn.

No, she would not describe what it was like to have breasts. Yes, she had kissed a boy. No, she didn't want a conversation on periods. Yes, she had kissed more than one boy. No, she was definitely NOT going to tell them what else she had done with a boy.

'AM I STILL A WHAT? That's none of your business!! Now, lights out, two minutes.'

On the way down to herbology the next day, the girls decided that her reaction meant she probably wasn't. Potential suitors included Harry Potter or (and) Ron Weasley, obviously, though most other boys who had been in her year got an honourable mention, including Crabbe and Goyle. One rather backward Hufflepuff, who had been listening in, thought it might have been Voldemort.

Her "room mates" also started following her down to meals, arranging to sit around her. They had been presented with their very own heroine from "The Golden Trio" and weren't going to give her up without a fight. She caught one of them intercepting Ginny in the common room one evening, saying 'Hermione is busy with homework at the moment. Can I take a message?'

By the end of the first week, Hermione had had enough, and went to see McGonagall.

'I am aware the situation is not perfect, Miss Granger, but it is the only dormitory that has room.'

'There'll be a lot more before long, Headmaster, because I'll put them all in St. Mungos. Could I move to Hogsmeade, please?'

'That is rather unprecedented. By Hogsmeade, do I take it you mean the flat over Weasley's Wizard Wheezes? You are of age, of course, but a pupil at this school. It could be awkward for us. However, if your parents were to agree…?'

That was not a problem, as her letter to them stated, quite simply, that if they did not agree, she would leave school and get a job as a barmaid in "The Hog's Head". She'd already spoken to the landlord, she lied to them. Their acceptance came back by return.

The other 6th and 7th years in the school were called to a special assembly to be told that this was most definitely a one-off, and they could forget any ideas they might be having. Two 4th years had to be told the same.

-o0o-

It was a rather strange year, not at all like she had imagined it. For a start off, there was no Ron and Harry to hang around with. Ginny, Neville and Luna just weren't the same. She started to get nostalgic for the adventures they'd had. At one point, she even missed Malfoy. Living with Ron had its problems as well. He was usually back in the flat before her, as she would spend some time in the library working after lessons. He normally had tea ready for her, which she ate, mainly because he'd made the effort.

Weekends, especially Hogsmeade weekends were spent at the flat, and she would help out in the shop when it was busy. Having two heroes on show, they discovered, was very good for business.

However, he became very solicitous of her progress. One evening, just before Easter, she laid down her quill, with an essay only half finished. It had been a beautiful day, the first spring like weather they'd had.

'Ron, how do you fancy popping down to the "Broomsticks" for a quick drink?'

'Have you finished your homework?'

'Not quite, I'll do it at lunchtime tomorrow. I don't need to hand it in until the afternoon.'

He smirked at her. '"Dot the Is and cross the Ts, then you can sit and take your ease." Finish it, and we'll see.'

'Oh Ron!! You never used to care about homework. Why are you acting like my dad all of a sudden?'

'Because your dad is expecting you to get seven "Outstanding" NEWTS, and he'll blame me if you don't. Now, do your homework or I'll bend you over my knee, young lady.'

'Dream on, lover boy.'

-o0o-

Several things happened just before exams started.

The first was the unveiling of a plaque in the Great Hall, commemorating those who had fallen during the battle. Harry had fought hard to get Snape's name added. He had been invited to do the deed, but had refused in favour of Neville, who had actually lead the resistance within the school. He was pleased he had done so when he saw the pride on Neville's grandmother's face as Neville stepped forward.

The second was a trip to London where Hermione, Ron, Harry and Neville were presented with their Orders of Merlin 1st Class. Many of their friends, including Ginny and Luna received a second class, which Hermione thought was a little unfair. That was a great day out, but very sad as the posthumous awards were made. Both sets of parents were in attendance, of course, her father standing out in his muggle Top Hat and Tails amongst all the robes.

Finally, Hermione received a request for an interview from the Headmaster. She entered the room somewhat nervously thinking, like any pupil anywhere, about what she could have done wrong. She needn't have worried, of course. McGonagall smiled at her, and offered a cup of tea.

'The last couple of weeks, Miss Granger. Are you all set?'

'I don't think I'll ever be, Headmaster. I hate exams!!'

'I'm confident you will have no problems whatsoever. The reason I called you here today was to ask you what you planned to do next.'

'Well, I'm not too sure. This year has been so busy with exams and everything else, and last year – well, long term planning wasn't a priority. I once told Rufus Scrimgeour that I wasn't interested in Magical Law, but I would like to do something to fight the prejudices that still exist. Remus had such a hard life because of them, and it would be a way of repaying poor Dobby.'

'Teaching is another way of changing lives, have you considered that?'

'Well, I'm not sure I'd be up to it just at the moment, I would have only just taken my own NEWTS.'

'Oh, it's not as simple as that my dear! No, the normal first step is to work as an assistant to an existing professor, an apprentice if you like. After that, you may choose to work with others in the same field, before applying for a post. Mr Longbottom will be doing this next year, with Professor Sprout.'

'Do you think anyone would want me, Professor?'

'Miss Granger, you do yourself a disservice!! I've had half the staff through here asking for you. Professors Slughorn, Flitwick, Vector and I would be more than willing to take you on. You have enormous potential.'

Ron thought it was a wonderful idea. Hermione liked the idea of further study, but wasn't sure if she could take to teaching. Still, there was only one way to find out, and it appealed more than some clerical job in the Ministry.

That just left the exams, and Ron reconciled himself to very long boring conversations about how they went. He also decided to only speak when spoken to, Hermione always got a little touchy around exam time. He was proved right. He spent a lot of time out of her way, normally in one of the pubs.

Then it was over. The final exam, a last Hogsmeade weekend and the leaving feast. She got home that night and cried, just a little bit. A major chapter of her life was now at an end. She had entered Hogwarts as a shy, somewhat bossy, little girl. And now?

'Well, you're not small or shy anymore' said Ron, before ducking.

Sorry that one was a bit long, I couldn't work out how to split it.

I've give you a bit of drama next chapter.


	5. Changes

Ron decided to close the shop for a few weeks once the school year had finished. Hogsmeade was fairly quite then anyway, but picked up again in later August as northern families started to prepare for the new term but didn't fancy a trip to London.

They decided to spend a week camping on the highlands, for old time's sake. It was ridiculously easy. Hermione packed the beaded bag; they got on Ron's broom and flew until they found a suitable spot. It turned out to be not so far away actually, they probably could have walked - just a sandy beach by a loch. There was nothing to do, so they did nothing, just lounging around and talking.

Hermione was trying to decide what to do. She knew she wanted to study under McGonagall, but what else? Ron counselled caution about spreading herself too thinly; this wasn't just another set of exams. She would have to help prepare lessons, assist in classes and mark homework - as well as learning herself. She liked Arithmancy, but didn't know if she would ever want to teach it, so it came down to a straight choice between Charms and Potions. She eventually decided Potions would give her better scope in the future, despite this meaning she would have to put up with "Old Sluggy".

'Blimey, Hermione, he'll love it. After Harry, you're the prize catch!!'

'What about you, Ron? Are you happy going on with the shop?'

He considered his answer. That was one big change she had noticed in him. Responsibility had made him more – responsible.

'I don't know, love. This past year has been great; lots to do, the shop to get ready, being my own boss, nobody trying to kill me. I'm not sure if it'll be enough though. It's a good job, but George is the brains in the business, I'll never match him in that. I don't want to wake up in 10 years time and realise I've missed the boat.'

'Are you still thinking about being an auror?'

'Yeah, but if you teach at Hogwarts, and I'm in London, what then?'

'They have schools in other places – like Australia.'

He grinned at her. 'Would you fancy that, honestly?'

'It's an option. We've got lots of options, there's no rush.'

-o0o-

After their week camping, they visited their families, starting with her parents. It was strange for Hermione to "go home" to a house she'd never seen before. Her parents had lost out on quite a lot of money selling their house and practice so quickly. They'd decided not to buy a new practice, they were too old to start again, so were working in the Health Service. The same had gone for the house. They'd bought what they could pay cash for, not wanting a mortgage. It was smaller than their previous home - nice, but smaller. Hermione felt guilty.

'Don't be silly, dear' her mother said. 'Actually you've done us a favour. "Downsizing", it's called, and we should have done it years ago. The old place was far too big, really, and now we don't have to run a business as well, we've got a lot more time for each other. We get home and relax, rather than starting on paperwork.'

On the Saturday, Hermione wanted to take her mum to Diagon Alley. She needed new robes for next year; she certainly wasn't going to turn up in her old school uniform.

'Mr Granger said 'I suppose I'd better get you some money out to change in the bank then.'

Ron looked at him. 'There's no need for that, Mr Granger. Hermione can get the money from our Gringotts account. I did say I'd look after her.'

Mr Granger had the good grace to look sheepish. 'I'm sorry, Ron. I wasn't inferring anything; it was just force of habit. You get use to being the "Bank of Mum and Dad".

Conscious he may have stepped on a few toes, Mr Granger decided to try and make it up. As they had a free day, he would take Ron to a cricket match. Although Ron didn't think much of it as a spectacle compared to Quidditch, he did take to the idea of sitting in the sun drinking beer. When the game finished many hours later (Ron couldn't quite work out why it finished when it did, or even who had won – if anybody) they were hungry, so Ron was introduced to the delights of a curry. This, by tradition, involves drinking a few more beers, of course. By that time, it seemed a shame to rush home, they'd let "the girls" have a good old chinwag, so they headed to a pub.

It was close to midnight when Ron and John (you can't keep calling me "Mr Granger", old chap) rolled home, trying to hold each other up. "The girls" were not amused, which Ron and John, of course, found very funny, so they started giggling.

Mr Granger was in disgrace the next morning, he'd been sick in the bedroom. Hermione, once again, was communicating with Ron mainly through "dirty looks and pointed silences". His head was hurting so much it was actually a blessing. Ron wasn't capable of remembering, and Hermione "forgot" about, Sobering Charms.

-o0o-

At "The Burrow" a few days later (Hermione had cheered up a bit) Molly briskly announced that they were in the "guest room". This was actually Percy's old room they'd redecorated. Ron wouldn't actually catch his mum's eye. Sitting down stairs later with a cup of tea, they caught up on the family news.

'Fleur's pregnant you know!! Isn't it wonderful? Our first grandchild!!' Molly obviously couldn't wait. 'It will so lovely to have babies in the house again, and I'm sure there will be lots more in the future.' Arthur tried to look enthusiastic.

'You've heard about Ginny and Harry, of course.'

'No, we've not seen her since school finished.' said Ron, 'What's happened?'

'He proposed to her' said Arthur, quietly. 'On the platform at King's Cross the day she left Hogwarts. He'd offered to meet her for us.'

Hermione was positively squealing as she bounced on the sofa clapping her hands. 'Ooooooo!! How wonderful!! When are they getting married?' She noticed a lack of response from Molly and Arthur. 'What? What's happened'?

'Well' Arthur continued 'they came here for dinner, and he asked my permission.'

Ron looked dumbstruck. 'You didn't refuse?'

'No. I said I wouldn't refuse, but I would prefer it if Harry came back in a year's time and asked again.' He looked across. 'I thought it was all too rushed. They're still so young, and Ginny had only just finished school.'

'So what did they say?'

'Harry said he understood, and he wouldn't marry without our blessing, and that he loved Ginny and would wait for as long as it took. I have to say I felt a bit of a bully.'

'He's such a sweet boy' butted in Molly, 'so noble and decent.'

'And what about Ginny, dad? What did she say?'

Arthur's ears went red. 'She's your mother's daughter, son. She got a bit upset, you could say. She started screaming and shouting that she loved Harry and would marry him whether we gave permission or not, and she was going to leave home and move in with him. We didn't care you two were "shacked up" – as she put it – so why couldn't she? She was always treated like a baby and she hated us.'

Hermione was sat with her hand over her mouth, looking horrified.

'Well, I wasn't having that' said Molly, 'I told her straight she didn't talk to us like that, and she wouldn't have time to leave home, we'd throw her out bag and baggage.'

Arthur continued. 'Then Harry stood up between the two of them, and said he wasn't going to go against our wishes, and that was final. He wasn't going to cause bad feelings in a family that had taken him in and treated him like one of their own, and Ginny would have to accept it. Of course, that just drew her fire. She said he loved us more than he loved her, so he could replace her as the youngest because she was going and never wanted to see him or us ever again. I felt awful, it was all my doing really.'

'So they've split up? Oh no, oh no.' Hermione was almost in tears.

'No, they haven't' said Arthur. 'At that, Harry picked her up, yes he put her over his shoulder, and marched her in to the garden. I'm not sure what he said, or did, out there, but 15 minutes later, she came in and apologised. He's a braver man than me.' Arthur smiled wryly. 'We've got a few less apple trees than we used to have. She took it out on them and, well, blew them up. I suppose it was them or him.'

'Bloody hell, dad!! We turn our backs for five minutes and look what happens! Where is she, anyway?'

'She's gone up to Wales; she's got a trial for the Harpies. Look, do me a favour, if you see them, tell them from us they don't have to wait if they don't want to. It's obvious they're made for each other. He's probably the only one who can handle her.'

-o0o-

They stayed with Harry in London for the last couple of days. Ron wanted to have a few "business meetings" with George, which all seemed to take place in "The Leaky Cauldron". They passed on Arthur's message the first night over dinner. Harry appreciated it, but had come to the conclusion the Weasleys were probably right.

'It was too soon. If Ginny gets taken on by the Harpies, and she probably will, she needs to concentrate on getting in to the team, and I'm still in the middle of training. It would have been completely the wrong time to think about getting married.'

'What's it like being an auror?' Ron asked casually. 'As good as we assumed?'

'I'm still only a trainee!! You'd love it, mate. It's hard work, trust me there a lot we don't know, but great.' He paused. 'I think you'd take to it. If you ever fancy it, you'd get in. I maybe shouldn't say this, but Kingsley told me. They wouldn't worry about the qualifications. I think they'd quite like you on board.'

As they spent the evening chatting, Hermione suddenly realised with a pang that this was the first time the three of them had been alone together since they had spoken to Dumbledore's portrait after the battle. It was part of growing up, she supposed, but still so sad. These two had been the major influence on her life for what felt like ever, but now it was no longer the case. She was, in deed if not word, Ron's wife, and Harry was their close friend. The "Golden Trio" was no more, now it was two plus one. If they were not careful, they could actually drift apart, only seeing each other at family gatherings because Ron and Ginny were related. The force of the conviction that this could not be allowed to happen actually took her by surprise.

Two weeks later, she entered the Great Hall at Hogwarts, wearing one of her new robes. McGonagall reminded her to sit at the teachers table, not with the Gryffindors. After the sorting, the Headmistress rose to make her usual speech, then it was time for introductions.

'I am pleased to introduce two new members of our teaching team. Mr Longbottom will be assisting Professor Sprout in Herbology and our Head Girl from last year, Miss Granger, will be working with myself and Professor Slughorn. They need no introduction to this school, which they have graced commendably for many years already, and they are already known to many of you, as I am sure, are their deeds. I know you will want to join me in wishing them well for the future.'

Hermione looked along the length on the Great Hall, seeing it from a different angle. It was another change. Would she actually spend the rest of her career here? Would they stay in Hogsmeade? Only time would tell.


	6. A new direction

It was the explosion and accompanying screams that caught her attention. Several first years were rolling around on the floor, and the room was full of choking smoke. Professor Slughorn and Hermione rushed over.

'You, boy, tell Madame Pomfrey there will be casualties arriving shortly' Slughorn looked around 'two at least, possibly more. Go!! Miss Granger, whilst I arrange to get them out of here, please clear up this area.'

One girl still stood behind what remained of her cauldron, shaking slightly. Hermione never quite worked out how she had not been injured.

'Right, this could be important for Madame Pomfrey. What did you do?'

'I put this in, Miss, and it just blew up.' She held up a bottle.

'Miss Phillips, it clearly says on the board to add Essence of Rue. What does the bottle you are holding say?'

'Erumpent fluid, Miss.'

'How on earth could you get them confused?'

'I'm sorry. It's not my fault Miss, they both start with an "E".'

'You stupid, stupid girl.' Miss Philips started to cry. Hermione saw Slughorn looking at her, shaking his head.

'You missed an ideal teaching point there.' he said to her later. 'You could have used it to emphasise the importance of checking and re-checking. Turn a negative in to a positive. Instead…well, bear that in mind, eh?'

-o0o-

Ron looked at the clock, for the thousandth time. It was 3.30, ninety minutes before he could lock up for the day. He'd sent out the orders that had arrived overnight by 9.30 that morning. There had only been two of them, with a combined value of Five Galleons, Eight Sickles. By lunchtime he'd read The Daily Prophet from cover to cover. No customers had come in.

-o0o-

'…the essence of the object being transfigured. Which means?' The third year Transfiguration class was silent. 'Anybody? Hello? Are you still awake?' Still silence. 'Does anybody in this class know what today's subject is?' She got eighteen blank stares in return. 'IT'S WRITTEN ON THE BOARD.'

The bell rang. 'Detention for EVERYBODY in this room on Wednesday evening, and you will tested on today's lesson. I will deduct one housepoint for every wrong answer. Class dismissed.' The class shuffled out, casting her very baleful looks. She heard one of them mutter 'I think I preferred the Carrows.'

Professor Lawson, the Transfiguration teacher who'd been supervising the lesson on McGonagall's behalf, smiled ruefully at her. 'They aren't the brightest I've ever come across. Having said that, you have to work to what few strengths they have. Today's lecture was very competent, but you may want to consider chopping in to smaller sections, with more question and answer sessions to make sure they understand each stage before progressing. Try to interact with them. Still, you live and learn, eh?'

-o0o-

Hermione walked back to Hogsmeade that evening, rather than apparating. It was a beautiful evening, crisp and clear. She had hoped the cold air and stars would help clear her head and calm her down. It had been a horrible day. Ron had dinner ready for her when she got in. She ate two mouthfuls before pushing it away.

'What's wrong, love? Not hungry?'

'What colour are carrots, Ron?'

He tried to find the trap, but couldn't, so walked straight in to it. 'Orange.'

'These are black.' She held one up. 'So are the peas. In fact, apart from the shape, it's very difficult to tell them apart.'

'Yeah, a couple of them did catch a bit. I think I had the heat too high. Sorry.'

She slammed her fist in to the table, unfortunately catching the edge of the plate which flipped off the table, scattering food everywhere.

'Just try getting it right, for a change. I'm sick of hearing "Sorry"'.

'What's got in to you?' Ron's voice was very far from sympathetic.

'I've had a bloody horrible day, that's what.'

'So you come home and take it out on me? Mine hasn't been a picnic, you know. I'm SORRY for the fact the world isn't full of perfect people like you.'

'Then I wish they'd all clear off and leave me in peace.'

Ron stood up. 'Well, let's start with me. Have as much peace as you want.' He stormed out of the flat, slamming the door behind him.

'GOOD!! GO!!' She threw his plate across the room as well, just for good measure, then sunk to the floor and started crying.

-o0o-

An hour later, she sidled in to the Hog's head. Aberforth saw her, and noticed the blotched face. 'He's over in the corner.' he said, nodding the direction. 'What are you having?'

'Firewhisky.'

'You sure?'

'Yes. Leave the bottle.'

'First row?' Hermione nodded, looking down at her shoes. 'I thought so. Still, knowing you two, it won't be the last. Go on, I'll bring 'em across.'

She walked over to Ron. 'Can I sit down?'

'It's a free country. That's what we fought for, isn't it? Freedom. The chance to sit in the shop of your choice all day getting bored stupid.'

Aberforth brought the drinks over – two butterbeers. He knew they drank nothing else.

'I'm sorry, Ron. You're right; I shouldn't bring my problems home with me. I shouldn't take it out on you either.'

He reached across the table to take her hand. 'Of course you should bring your problems home with you. That's what I'm here for. But you could try talking to me about them, instead.' He paused for a moment. 'I've decided to write to Harry, to ask him if he was serious about the auror training. I've not made my mind up yet, but I need to know where I stand.'

Hermione stared at the table. She couldn't meet his eyes; she didn't want him to see that she was trying not to cry.

'That means you'd have to move to London. Have things got that bad between us?' She tried to take her hand away, but Ron tightened his grip.

'It's not that, Hermione. That's not the reason. I could still come home at the weekends, or you could come down. I don't want it to be the end of us.'

'But we'd be apart most of the time, wouldn't we? And what if, I'm not trying to pressure you Ron, what about children? We couldn't have a life like that. I'm not sure I want to stay at Hogwarts anyway.'

'No, Hermione, I couldn't make you give up your life, not to follow me. That wouldn't be fair.'

'It isn't just you. I'm not sure I'm cut out to be a teacher.'

'I thought you'd love teaching.'

I do, Ron. It's the children I can't stand. We weren't that thick, were we?'

'You weren't. You won't have classes full of little Hermiones, you know. There'll be a few Rons and Harrys and Nevilles thrown in as well.'

'I made a girl cry today. I called her stupid. It was in potions. I'm turning in to Snape.'

'Wow! That's pretty bad. What would you do instead?

'I don't know. I'd have to get a job of some kind. I can't see me being a stay-at-home. Maybe in Flourish and Blotts. I don't know if I'd fancy starting at the bottom in the Ministry.'

They were both so naive. Neither of them realised quite how famous they were. Hermione could have walked in to The Daily Prophet and got a job tomorrow, the Editor would have crawled over broken glass to have her writing for him, on any subject she wanted. WWN would probably have let her have her own show if she'd asked, but nobody ever told them that, so they didn't know. They were both still very young, in some ways.

-o0o-

Several weeks later, Hermione was invited to tea with the Headmistress. This time, she thought she knew what it was about. Although Hermione had continued with her work, it was becoming obvious that her heart wasn't quite in it any more. As she entered the study, she was surprised to see Kingsley Shacklebolt there. After the usual greetings and pleasantries were out of the way, Kingsley got down to business.

'I was in the area anyway, so I called in to see your…to see Ron.' Like many people, Kingsley wasn't quite sure of the title. Husband wasn't right, partner made it sound like a business arrangement, and as for lover, well that was right out. 'Harry passed his letter on to me. I've told him there's a place reserved for him starting September, if he wants it.'

'I see' said Hermione. 'I imagine he'll take it up. I don't think the shop has enough scope for him.'

'So, how will that affect your plans, Hermione?'

It was the fact that McGonagall had spoken that made her look up. She thought it was the only time her Headmistress had ever used her first name. It was asked in such a gentle tone as well. It had been spoken as a friend to a friend.

'I'm not sure, Professor. I've been thinking about Hogwarts anyway. I'm not sure teaching is right for me. I don't think I could ever have the right approach.'

McGonagall didn't automatically disagree. She had heard the reports form Slughorn and Lawson. It didn't bode well. 'So what would you do instead?'

'I'm not sure. I'll find something.'

Kingsley spoke again. 'We suspected that might be the case. That's why I wanted to see you. How about coming to work for me?'

'I've thought about the Ministry, but I don't know if I want to do clerical work.'

He laughed. 'Do you think I'm offering you a place as an office junior? With your talent? No, I've got a specific job in mind.'

She furrowed her brow. What on earth could he mean? She'd never wanted to be an auror.

'Professor McGonagall has told me about your interest in rights, and SPEW.'

'That was just something I came up with when I was a pupil. Me getting on my high horse. There were only ever about 5 members.'

'You can see a long way from a high horse, Hermione. I think the time is right for changes in the Wizarding world. House Elf rights, the way we interact with Centaurs and Goblins, the fact that blood still counts. I'm looking for somebody who can drive through changes, and maybe even legislation eventually, so things are different in the future.

I need somebody who the public can identify with, but they need to be hard working and diligent as well. Plus, it would help if they were smart. Probably the smartest of their generation. Any ideas who would fit the bill?' He smiled at her and sipped his tea. 'Take your time and think about it, that's all I ask.

By the way, Ron invited me to stay for dinner tonight. I'm in no rush to get back to London, so I agreed. Please say if it would be inconvenient. He didn't say what we were having.'

'If Ron's cooking, it will be something flambé.'

'Umm, very exotic. I'm looking forward to it. I didn't realise he'd become an expert chef.'

'He hasn't. It just turns out that way.'

-o0o-

Early August saw them standing, arm in arm, in their empty flat. Almost everything they needed to take had been flooed to Grimmauld Place. Harry had, once again, offered room until they were sorted.

Hermione sniffed and wiped her eyes. 'This was our first home, Ron. I'll never forget it.'

'I know. We had some good times here, but we'll have another home soon, a chance to start afresh. We could never have had children here, there's no room.'

'Do you want children, one day?'

'Of course I do. One day. But only if you'll be their mum. Come on, let's go.'

Picking up the last few bags, they stepped in to the fireplace.

One of the first things they did on returning to London was to go down to The Burrow for a family get together to celebrate Ginny and Harry's engagement. Harry, good to his word and a year to the day, had asked Arthur again. Of course, he had agreed, but they made a scene out of it.

Harry had said 'Mr Weasley, I come here this evening to ask permission to marry your daughter Ginevra.'

Arthur had replied 'Can you tell me something of your prospects, young man?'

Ginny had threatened to Bat Bogey Hex the pair of them, and Molly had cried a lot.

When she saw who had arrived, Ginny came running out of the house. She and Hermione hugged and screamed and whooped quite a lot. Harry followed more sedately behind, shaking Ron by the hand.

'I'm glad you're making an honest woman of her at last.' said Ron.

Harry gave him a "that's rich coming from you" sort of look. Ron noticed, and changed tack. He put on his best Percy voice.

'I would like to say though, Harry old chap, that a relationship is not just holding hands and candlelight. The toilet needs cleaning as well. Who will do that?'

'Huh! Hark at him' said Hermione. 'I'll give you one guess, Ginny.'

Later that evening, George came in to the living room. Word had somehow got out, and there were a couple of people from The Daily Prophet standing just outside the wards. Could they have a word with the happy couple, if it were convenient? Ginny and Harry went out.

The story made the front page the next day, with the headline "The Golden Boy Gets His Golden Girl" over a picture of the two. Ginny had been given her nickname after her dating Harry became generally known, and also since she was considered to be the best young English Quidditch prospect since – well, the last one.

Ginny had actually contacted Hermione the first time the paper used it, to make it clear she didn't encourage it, and it was Hermione who should actually be "The Golden Girl". Hermione had laughed, and said it wasn't a problem, honestly.

'I wouldn't be "The Golden Girl" anyway. I'd be "That Girl with loads of Frizzy Brown Hair"!'

As Hermione studied the picture, she felt a sense of great contentment. At last, things seemed to be settling down.


	7. The Ministry

The woman rushed out at him from a side alley. His wand was ready and he yelled "STUPIFY". She took only one step before crashing to the ground, a bundle flying away from her limp arms. Ron looked down at her.

The lights came on, and an amplified voice said "OK, test over. Head for the debriefing room.' Ron walked through the cavernous space that had been designed to replicate a small town and was used for "Urban Engagement". He headed for a door in the side wall, opened it and entered the room beyond. The lamps reflected of the bare white walls, and the only furniture was a wooden table and four chairs. Ron threw himself in to one of them. He was covered in sweat. Dawlish and Harry came in through another door.

Dawlish smiled at him. 'So, how did you find it?'

'Stress making. Even though I knew it wasn't for real, my heart's going ten to the dozen.'

'That's the idea. Right, let's see how you did. You identified two of the three targets correctly. I liked the way you dealt with the second one. He was no real threat, and the body bind was perfect. Most people over-react. You missed the third, he was in the bedroom. The bed has been hollowed out to make a hidey-hole…'

'Aarrgh!! I never thought of that, I could see it went all the way to the floor. I should have used _Homenum revelio, _shouldn't I?'

'It wouldn't have worked on the dummies, of course, but you'd have got the credit. Still you're not the first to miss that one,' Harry grinned sheepishly 'that's why we do it.

Now, the non-combatants. Five out of six, not bad. The last one might have put you in front of a Board of Inquiry though. She was a muggle woman carrying a baby.'

'It was the way she came at me. I just had to react.'

'She wasn't coming at you; she was running to catch a bus. I made the same mistake many years ago. All in all, a good performance, well done.' He looked at his watch. 'We might as well call that lunch. I'll see you back in the office at 1:30.'

Ron turned to Harry once they were in the corridor. 'I see why it's called the "Village of the Damned". Fancy having lunch with us?'

'Can't mate, I'm meeting Ginny, a bit more planning.'

'Aren't you all done yet, the wedding's only two weeks off.'

'Not quite, but we're getting there. I think the "to do" list is under 5,000 now. Take my advice, stay shacked up. It's simpler. See you later.'

-o0o-

Ron lingered outside the Staff Canteen, waiting for Hermione. When she arrived, they went to choose their lunch, which tended to be their main meal of the day. He had Steak and Kidney Pudding and Treacle Tart with Custard to follow. She had a grilled Chicken Salad and fresh fruit.

'Ron, you know all that stodge isn't good for you, don't you?'

'I should do, you tell me every day. But it's alright for you, pushing bits of paper around, I need something that'll stick to my ribs.' He went on to tell her about the "Village of the Damned". 'So, what "interesting" things have you done today?'

Although he tried to feign boredom in her work, she knew he was only joking. Hermione had made an impressive start to her new career, and Ron had watched with pride. She was currently working on a House Elf Registration Act. This would force all employees to register their House Elves, and guarantee minimum levels of welfare. It wasn't full equality, but it was a start.

'Oh, nothing as exciting as killing people, though I could have done!' Ron raised his eyebrows. 'A petition from a group of witches, well six, in the Shires. They don't have to register their dogs or horses, why should House Elves be any different? Honestly, some of these people are still in the Dark Ages.

Anyway, we go to the Committee Stage next week, so I've got loads to do. I'll probably have to come in at the weekend. Sorry.'

'I'll explain to mum. Give me an excuse not to go down either. Don't forget you need to be home tonight for another fitting, will you.' Hermione was to be a bridesmaid. 'Mum I can handle, but Ginny's a different matter. After that, we should go out. No, don't look at me like that. I know you've got _loads_ on, and you'd far rather be doing homework 'til midnight…'

'It is NOT _homework_, Ron, its preparation.'

'…but you need to relax as well. What would the Wizard world do if its brightest star burned out before Flobber Worms had full equality before the Law?' He was smiling at her; she knew it was a wind-up.

They discussed plans for the evening, and decided the cinema sounded good. They had got in to the habit of spending their leisure time in the muggle world, especially if Harry and Ginny were with them. There, they were just young people, not paparazzi magnets – especially with the wedding of the century coming up.

They went home together after work, so that Hermione could get ready for the dressmaker. "Home" was, in fact, still Grimmauld Place. London is a difficult and expensive City to find accommodation in, and Harry said he had plenty of room. Hermione had confided in Ginny that she wanted her own place, rather than sharing. It was Ginny who had suggested they could convert the first floor in to a self contained flat. It had a good sized room which became lounge and dining room, and an en-suite bedroom already there. All they really needed to do was convert one of the large walk-in cupboards in to a small kitchen, so that Ron could continue burning things. Of course, Harry and Hermione had to have an argument first, as she insisted on a tenancy agreement and paying rent.

It worked out very well. They could come and go as they pleased, but Harry lived close by and their friendship was re-cemented. Ginny never stayed over, she wouldn't until they married. She still felt somewhat ashamed of her outburst a couple of years back, so had decided to be the model daughter until her big day. She was often there on a Sunday morning though, having travelled back from a Harpies game, so they usually all gathered in the main kitchen for a huge brunch. It was quite like old times.

-o0o-

The next couple of weeks slipped by all too quickly. Hermione's Committee Stage started, and she was working very long hours. Ron, wanting to take an interest in his,,,he couldn't work out what she was either. Girlfriend made them sound fourteen. He tried using CFSP, but when she found out what it stood for, she threatened him with every hex she could think of.

Anyway, he tried reading the Committee Minutes that were sent to her for approval every day. They made Professor Binns' "History of Magic" lectures sound fascinating by comparison. One day, there were _three sheets _coveringsome objection to a "Point of Order" on a sub-sub Clause. She didn't laugh when he said these things could be dealt with much quicker by playing "Scissors-Paper-Stone", and she should suggest that to the committee chairman.

'Seriously, love, do you honestly find this interesting? No, I'm not winding you up this time. Can you see it becoming a career?'

'I can, Ron. I know it looks very tedious, and some of it can be, but I think I can make a difference, and I'm finding Wizard Law fascinating.' She saw his eyebrows go up again. 'Yes, I do remember what I said to Scrimgeour that time, thank you!! I'm actually thinking of training to be a lawyer. Kingsley said I could do it through work, part-time, and they'd pay for it. Would you mind? I would take a good few years, and I'd have to spend some time away on courses and things, and have to do _homework._ Would you support me in it?'

'Of course I would. If you wanted, you could resign from the Ministry to do a full time course, if you thought it would be easier.'

'We couldn't afford it, Ron.' He, after all, was only a trainee auror. The wages weren't great.

'Things would be tight. If it came to it, we could always move back in with my parents, or yours. But it would be worth it in the long term, when I'm Head Auror, and you're Minister of Magic.'

She hugged him. 'I couldn't do that, not now.' She snuggled in to him, and let out a sigh. 'I don't deserve you, you know.'

Several years ago, he would have turned that in to a joke or got embarrassed, but not anymore. She meant the whole world to him, so he hugged her back. 'I think that's what makes us so special. Neither of us thinks we deserve each other. I know I don't.'

-o0o-

On the Friday before the wedding, they got home to find a note pinned to their front door.

'Slight change of plans, can you be at The Burrow by 11 o'clock latest.'

They couldn't work out what that was about, and eventually gave up trying.

They apparated down to The Burrow, arriving at in a nearby field at around 10:30. It looked like they had landed in the crowd for a Quidditch World Cup final. It was bedlam, there were people everywhere, and they started to fight through the crowd. Of course, they were recognised, and that drew in the Press.

'Mr Weasley,Miss Granger – a picture please?' 'Any thoughts on this happy day?' 'Just a quick interview before you go in, please?'

'I suppose there's no point me asking you anything, is there?'

They turned to find Rita Skeeter standing before them. 'Why bother' said Hermione 'you'll make it up anyway. Come up with any particularly virulent things to say yet?'

'On this one? You're joking. One word out of place, I'd have a lynch mob after me.'

Hermione formed her face in to a "far away" look. 'A girl can dream, Rita. Goodbye'

Of course Rita had the last word. Two weeks later, an article appeared wondering whether the remaining two of the "Golden Trio" would ever cement their relationship. "I have known Hermione Granger for many years now, and consider her a close friend." says vivacious star journalist, Rita Skeeter. "Occasionally she'll confide to me 'Rita, a girl can dream' but she always looks wistful when she says it. I can only hope her beau, Ron Weasley, is as honourable as dear Harry."

They got through the security guards around the boundary, and were met by a harassed looking George.

'I think every Wizard in the country has turned up. Go straight in to the marquee, will you.'

They walked in, fully expecting it to look the way it did for Bill and Fleur's nuptials. Instead, it looked like a jumble sale. Percy approached them, holding a clipboard.

'Ah, excellent, you're early.' He pointed at an old lemonade bottle. 'This one's leaving in two minutes. Mr & Mrs Adams? You can travel with my brother and his….Hermione. Have you met? Two minutes then.' He bustled off. 'Hello Mr Wells, your portkey is just here. You have five minutes. I may try to send the Longbottoms with you. If you can just stay here...'

Ron and Hermione barely had time to shrug before the bottle glowed, and they put their fingers on it. They landed just outside the gates of Hogwarts a few moments later.

'Ron!! Hermione!!' Hargrid rushed towards them, lifting them both off the ground at the same time. 'Great ter see yer!! What a day!! What a day!! Little Harry getting' married eh, an' ter yer sister, Ron!! Yer know, I remember the firs' time I saw 'im, 'e were that little…'

'Yeah, great Hagrid, good to see you too. Where are they? We need to start getting ready.'

'Right, right. Yer know, I'm all of a dither meself. They're up in the school. It's gonna be in the Great Hall. Headmistress herself suggested it. Great lady McGonagall, great lady.'

They made their way up the familiar path to the school and met Molly, who explained everything.

'We knew it would be chaos at The Burrow, everybody would want to be in on it, so Professor McGonagall suggested it was held here instead. Everything's been sent up ahead, and the House Elves have organised the food and reception. It's their present to Harry. Isn't that kind of them?'

They walked through the entrance hall, pausing to look at the memorial plaque on the wall for a moment.

'I know he'll be watching' said Molly, her eyes glazing over. 'He wouldn't miss his sister's wedding.'

'Hermione was looking at a different name. 'I'm trying to keep my promise' she whispered.

-o0o-

It was a wonderful day. Ron stood next to Harry, waiting for Ginny to arrive. Harry was shaking like a leaf.

'Come on, Harry, it's not that bad is it? You killed Voldemort.'

'Yeah, but this is getting married. I mean, it's a bit more of a challenge, isn't it?'

The doors at the rear of the Hall opened, and Ginny entered on Arthur's arm. She looked absolutely radiant. Her dress was a flowing, billowing gown of gold, which complimented her hair beautifully. Hermione walked behind in a dress of primrose yellow and little Teddy Lupin walked before them all scattering flowers. Molly cried.

Ron leaned towards Harry and whispered 'If you ever harm one hair on her head, I will hunt you down and kill you.'

Later on, they stood outside in the grounds of Hogwarts Castle, Elves moving amonst the crowd carry food and drink. The Merpeople had come to the edge of the lake to serenade the happy couple, and the Centaurs emerged from the forest to add their blessings.

Ron and Hermione stood chatting to Neville, Seamus, Dean and Parvati just like they had never been away and catching up on all the news. They all knew Neville was at Hogwarts still, of course, but he told them that next year he was going to study with the Hungarian herbologist, Professor Angyalka, who was researching wolfsbane to try and make a more effective werewolf potion. Parvati had been in India, studying eastern mysticism and Seamus was now an apprentice broomstick maker. Dean had been trying to find his father, so far without success. 'I just want to meet him, that's all.'

Professor McGonagall approached them, and they stopped talking immediately and stood to attention, having suddenly become schoolchildren again. She greeted them all by name, and asked after them, then talked about Harry and Ginny. She gave Dean a rather shrewd looked when he wished them well. 'Better luck next time, Mr Thomas' she said smiling, as she moved on. 'How did she know?' was all he could say.

Ron and Hermione stood arm in arm, watching Ginny and Harry fly off in to the sunset on their brooms. They had decided on a simple honeymoon in Scotland. Harry liked the idea of camping as well.

Hermione looked at Ron with a big smile, and tears of happiness running down her face. He knew exactly what he should do now, it was perfect timing and would make the day complete.

'OI!! LOVE BIRDS!! Come and have a drink with us.' The moment was lost and they turned towards the family. Sometimes, Ron desperately wished he was an only child.


	8. Progression

The seasons continued to roll around in their usual order, and life went on. Ron's brothers began to marry; Percy to Audrey, the only person on the planet as boring as her husband according to Ron. He was amazed they never exploded with frustration. George married Angelina, which raised a few eyebrows, she having dated Fred at one stage. In family conversations, when George wasn't there of course, it was wondered who was comforting whom, and why. Only Charlie and Ron had appeared to be happy without a ring. Charlie was living with a girl in Romania. Much to Molly's delight, more grandchildren continued to appear at regular intervals.

Hermione was now a Lawyer, and had confirmed herself as one of the brightest lights in the Ministry. After the success of the House Elf Registration Act (which technically was not her Law, but everybody knew in reality was) Kingsley had got her repealing anti-muggle legislation. Some of these laws, particularly the old ones, were a joke. The 1385 act that stated only purebloods could keep Manticores as pets, or one from 1526 which did not allow unmarried female half-bloods to have wands with a unicorn hair core "lesse it causeth them to abandone their faire gender and becometh a man'. Even though they were ridiculous, they still needed repealing through the proper channels, and writing the necessary Repeal Act was excellent training. More serious were the recent Laws. The Muggle Registration Act was still technically in force and on the Statute Books.

Harry had qualified as an auror, and had a meteoric rise through the department. He had been tasked with bringing the organisation up to date, and Kingsley Shacklebolt made it clear that anybody who disagreed would be spending a lot more time with their families. Harry was not only talking to other departments around the world, but also to selected members of certain muggle Special Forces. They were amazed with he could do "with a stick", and he was equally impressed with what they could do without one.

Once Ron had finished his training, he found himself sucked along in Harry's wake. Ron was a natural, and went about his work with a zeal that sometimes worried those around him, particularly when it involved hunting down the remaining Death Eaters. Fenrir Greyback was a case in point.

He'd been tracked down and trapped in a derelict area. The wards thrown over the site meant there was no way out, but everybody knew he would never surrender. They would have to go in and get him. Harry was Section Head for the operation. He didn't want too many going in the ground, ideally only one.

He hesitated before calling for a volunteer. This was the part he hated most. Only Ginny knew he still woke up screaming at night. It was always the same dream; Voldemort's high voice saying 'Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?' then his mother begging 'Not Harry'.

Ron stepped forward with a grin on his face before anything was said. 'Look's like this is right up my street, boss.' At work, he never called Harry by name, it was a professional thing.

'Ron, are you sure about that?'

'Sure I'm sure. Who else is as good as me in the "Village of the Damned"?' That was true enough, it was his speciality.

'OK. Be careful, I know this one has got an edge to it for us all. Don't take risks, and I'm authorising all necessary force. You've got a clear run'.

'Hopefully it won't take too long. I promised Hermione we'd go to the pictures tonight. She'll kill me if I'm late back.' Another grin and he was gone.

Ron was wired up so Harry could hear his progress, and a transponder would allow his position to be checked against GPS. These were muggle things that Harry had seized on. For a while, he could hear nothing but breathing, and a muttered _Homenum revelio. _He switched to transmit. 'Don't rely on it, Ron. He's not full human.'

Then there came a splintering of wood and a call of 'Freeze!' There was a bang, followed by a scream. Harry stiffened. Then Ron again, 'I said SIT!' Another bang and an almost animal yelp. A third bang, then dull thuds. 'That's for Lupin. And this is for Lavender. Avada kedavra!' A moment's silence. 'Area secured, target neutalised.' Harry was the only one listening, and he'd persuaded Kingsley technology wasn't available to record anything. Kingsley hadn't argued.

The Board of Inquiry lasted just one hour, only Ron and Harry were called. The conclusion was that "Auror Weasley defended himself against a convicted criminal known to have a history of violence. Necessary force had been approved in accordance with standard procedures by the Section Head, who was authorised to so do. There is no case to answer."

As they came out, Harry turned to Ron. 'I won't cover up for you again, Weasley. If you want to take over sentencing, join the Wizangemot.' Ron knew he wasn't joking.

'Fair comment, boss.'

-o0o-

At home, this was still Grimmauld Place, things continued on a smooth path. Now Hermione had her degree, she was working less, so they could go out more to pubs, clubs or the theatre. Promotions meant they had a higher disposal income, so being young and free, they spent it. Occasionally they threw very unsophisticated "dinner parties", but they enjoyed them. Spaghetti Bolognaise or Lasagne featured high on the list, with fairly mediocre New World wines. Desserts were normally bought on the way home and involved chocolate.

One tradition that never failed was the weekly trip to the cinema. It had started when Hermione was still studying law. Ron hadn't cared what the film was; it just had to be long. He knew she'd fall asleep in the first five minutes, so the longer the better. He became a bit of an expert on rubbish films over the years.

Every couple of weeks they would go to her parents, or his. Nothing was ever said about their status, though he thought (perhaps mistakenly) that the mums sometimes gave him a bit of a disappointed look. Since that evening of Ginny's wedding, he'd never come across another perfect moment, and he wanted it to be perfect, not just asked over a take away one evening. Hermione never, by thought, deed or act, suggested she was getting impatient. Actually, it never worried her at all. She knew who her husband was, and didn't need a bit of paper to tell her. As for children, well, they were still young enough. Harry and Ginny hadn't rushed in to it.

Ginny was still flying for the Harpies, now a regular fixture in the first team. She had also forced her way in to the England squad, and was definitely going to the next World Cup, which was being held in Sweden.

Ron and Harry were going too, but as aurors assigned to the Minister. He had selected them personally, along with Hermione. He had arranged some fairly routine discussions with the Swedish Magical Law Enforcement department to justify the trip. It wasn't a coincidence he had hand picked them. They were still known as "The Golden Trio", and they would be seen to be working for the Minister. He, on the other hand, could infer they were working "with" him. He would not make the mistakes of the past. They were definitely "on-side" and, if they wanted to get paid every month, they had better stay "on-message". They, of course, were happy to work with Kingsley, as they all had a common aim, so everybody was friends

It wasn't all work. They had superb seats for the games, and got to see England play every match of course. 'I am getting paid overtime for this, aren't I Minister?' Harry used to say with a big grin on his face. Ginny, at this stage, was on her top form, scoring regularly for a team playing to its maximum potential. They progressed smoothly through to the semi-finals, crushing minor countries like Luxembourg who had caused them so many problems in the past. In the semis, they lost only narrowly to Peru who went on to play Bulgaria in one of the best finals every. Bulgaria eventually won after an epic 15 hour match, so Viktor Krum finally became a World Champion before retiring. Hermione couldn't arrange to meet him during the competition, which caused Ron to feign disappointment.

-o0o-

'Mr and Mrs Harry Potter request the pleasure of your company for dinner on Saturday at 8 pm. Drinks will be served in the library from 7.30pm. Dress robes to be worn.'

They found this pinned to the front door one evening a couple of months after the World Cup had finished. Harry would say nothing more about it, apart from 'We can invite friends to dinner if we want, can't we.'

Ron and Hermione turned up promptly at 8:10. At 7:25, Hermione had decided that 'this hair doesn't go with my robes; I'll have to re-do it.' Then she couldn't find a handbag to match. By this stage Ron was sat in a chair, saying 'I wonder what's on television tonight, seeing as we're not going out.' They weren't talking by the time they arrived.

Arthur and Molly were already there. Molly sized up the situation in an instant, and hissed in Arthur's ear, 'They've had a row. You talk to Ron, I'll deal with Hermione.'

Kreacher was stalking through the room serving drinks, also upset, shooting baleful glances at Molly. She had brought a starter with her, which had upset him. 'Kreacher IS capable of cooking, oh yes' he was muttering. 'Kreacher hasn't managed to poison Master and Mistress yet. Mistress Mother-in-law should learn Kreacher served Mistress Black for many years without complaint.' Harry had a rather forced smile on his face.

Things calmed down as they ate. Ginny had decided it was easier to eat Kreacher's food. They had to live with him, her mother would be going home. By the time they got to dessert, everything had calmed down, and Hermione and Ron were talking to each other again. As the cheese and biscuits were being passed around, Harry stood up.

'Thank you for coming. It's been a wonderful meal. There is a reason we invited you this evening though.' He looked at Ginny. 'You or me?'

'You' she said.

'Well' he continued 'Kreacher isn't going to be the only little misery around here before long. Ginny's pregnant. We're going to be parents.'

Hermione rushed around the table, and she and Ginny did their hugging and screaming and whooping routine. Arthur and Ron shook hands with Harry, and each other, and even Kreacher. Molly sat there saying 'My little girl, my baby' and crying.

Once they had all settled down, Ron asked his sister about Quidditch.

'I'm giving up, of course. Flying a broom and pregnancy don't go together. We want more than one, so I'll stop here. I told the Manager and Owners at the Harpies at the start of the season I wouldn't be coming back after the World Cup. There was a clause in the contract, of course, but I thought it only fair to tell them we were trying.'

'Are you going to carry on working?' Hermione asked.

'Of course she isn't' said Molly instantly.

'Yes, I am' Ginny countered. 'I've already got a job, actually. Chief Quidditch writer for "The Prophet". I guaranteed them a World Exclusive – so long as they gave me a job starting straight after the story was run – which will be in the Monday editions.' She looked very smug.

-o0o-

Ron was in a funny mood, and had been for a couple of weeks. He kept finding excuses to "pop down and see Ginny". On Sunday at The Burrow, he'd even stayed around whilst babies were discussed in great detail.

Of course, one of the great things about being a parent meeting a new member of the club is that you can accentuate the negative, which is great fun. Soon the air was full of stories involving phrases such as "teething" and "green motions" and "projectile vomiting" which made Hermione feel slightly nauseous. They hadn't even started on "sleepless nights" and "the terrible twos". Ron seemed to find it fascinating.

It was two o'clock in the morning, and Hermione was staring at the ceiling. Next to her, Ron was wriggling like a fish on a hook.

'What's the matter, Ron?'

'Ginny's having a baby.'

'I know, she told me.'

'She's having a real baby. Harry's going to be a dad.'

'Yes, I worked that out for myself, actually. Can we get some sleep now?'

…………

…………

'Can we have one?'

'Can we have one what?'

'A baby.'

'One day.'

'When?'

'Well not now, I'm tired.'

'So when?'

She propped herself up on her elbow to look at him.

'Are you being serious?'

'Yeah. I mean, we're doing alright, aren't we? We're both settled in jobs, and the future looks good, and, well…Harry's going to be a dad He'll have a baby to look after and cuddle.'

'And projectile vomit over him. They don't stay babies for ever.'

'I want a family, Hermione. With you. Sons and daughters so we can be a proper family.'

'OK, look, we'll talk about it tomorrow, yes? These things need planning. This is a whole human life you're talking about. Now get some sleep.'

…………

…………

'Hermione?'

Yes. Ron.

If we're going to have a family…'

'Yes?'

'We should sort of get married as well, shouldn't we? I suppose.'

'Have you just proposed to me?'

'Suppose I have. It wasn't quite the way I intended. I wanted it to be all romantic, and that. I nearly proposed the day they got married, but we got disturbed. Do you want me to go down on one knee?'

'No, it's not a problem. Go to sleep.'

…………

…………

'Hermione?'

'WHAT?'

'You didn't give me an answer.'

'Yes. I. Will. OK? NOW GO TO BLOODY SLEEP OR I'LL BE A WIDOW BEFORE I'M MARRIED.'

Ron went out like a light. It was Hermione who lay there awake all night.

Mrs. Hermione Weasley. How did that sound? That sounded perfect.


	9. Planning

It had all been very exciting and glamorous to begin with. Firstly, they had to choose an engagement ring. Hermione hadn't been particularly bothered, but Ron wanted to do it. They searched the shops for almost a whole day. Ron wanted big and ostentatious. He wanted the sort of ring that could be a danger to shipping.

Finally, Hermione saw it. She knew it was right from the very first; it seemed to draw her eye in to the display. 'That's it, Ron. That's the ring I want.'

'It's a bit small. What about that one over there?'

'No, Ron. This is it.' It was the most beautiful ring she had ever seen, yet it was a just a thin, plain band of white gold, with a solitary diamond very simply set.

'Well, if you're sure?' He nodded to the assistant, who presented it to them on a velvet tray. Hermione stared at it in raptures. She couldn't bring herself to pick it up, so looked to Ron.

He took it between finger and thumb, twirling it round so it caught the light. This was something that only happened once a lifetime, and he wanted to do it. He went down on one knee.

'Hermione, will you accept this ring as a token of our love, and my commitment to marry you and care for you for the rest of our lives?'

As he slipped it on to her finger, she said 'Yes, Ron, yes! A thousand times yes.'

Everybody in the shop began applauding and congratulating them.

They decided to get the news out quickly, so went to see her parents on Saturday. They wanted to see how long it would take for them to notice. It took her mother slightly under 10 seconds from opening the door.

'Hermione! Ron! Come in, come in. So, this is a nice surprise. Were you just passing or….Oh! John! Come here, come quickly!'

Mr Granger rushed from the living room, wondering what was wrong.

'What is it? What's happened?'

'It's Hermione!'

'Yes, I know. She is my daughter.'

'No! Look!'

'What?'

'Her hand!'

'What's wrong with her ha…oh my! After all these years? Well I never. Congratulations!'

He hugged his daughter to him, and then shook Ron by the hand. 'I'm glad. I know you'll be happy. Come in, come in. I suppose we'd better start the preliminary planning.'

Over tea, they decided that August would be the best time. It couldn't be any earlier, because Ginny would be delivering around June, and Hermione wanted her to be Matron of Honour. They hadn't decided on where they were getting married yet, possibly The Burrow would be easiest. Jean Granger reached for a pencil and paper.

'I'll need your parent's phone number, or address, Ron. I think we should invite them over.'

'Ah' said Ron. 'The thing is, we haven't got a phone, and I'm not sure the postman knows we exist. You haven't got an owl have you? That's easiest. We might have to do something about that, I suppose. We can take a note with us though, we're seeing them tomorrow. Don't let dad near anything electrical, will you?'

Sunday at The Burrow turned in to a full blown party. Molly noticed even quicker than Hermione's mum, and soon the floo network was going full blast. Ginny and Harry dropped everything and rushed over. As soon as they stepped out of the fireplace, Ginny threw herself in to Hermione's arms, for the now traditional whoop and screech.

Harry hugged her. 'My big sister getting married. My, you're all grown up!' She gave him a slap.

Bill and Fleur came up, then George and Angelina and even Percy and Audrey. Soon, all the children were rushing, toddling or crawling around and it was bedlam. Molly was in her element, Arthur was in his shed.

On Monday, they told a few select people at work. That evening they had an owl from The Daily Prophet requesting an interview. This appeared a couple of days later, with a nice picture of the two of them sat on the sofa hand in hand, the ring on display. Hermione had refused point blank to stare dreamily in to Ron's eyes, and Ron had refused just as steadfastly to go down on one knee.

The following day they received an owl from Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall sent her heartfelt congratulations, and thought it only fair to offer them the Great Hall as well, so that was the location sorted.

-o0o-

Ron joined Hermione for lunch in the Staff Canteen, as usual. He had a rather nervous smile on his face. It was a couple of weeks after the Weasley / Granger Summit, which had gone remarkably well. What nobody knew was that Molly had had "a word" with Arthur before they set out. This evening was to discuss their son's wedding, and he wasn't to start gibbering on about muggle inventions, and he wasn't to touch anything. Or else.

'It's not good news' said Ron, sitting down with his usual plates of nursery food.

'What's happened?' Hermione looked up from her pasta and salad. Measurements had been taken for the dress.

'Mum's bought herself a mobile phone. So she can contact your mum.'

'But they don't have electricity, how's she going to charge it?'

'They've got spare batteries. Dad will give them to me to do.' Grimmauld Place now had power connected. 'He's talking about having electric put in to The Burrow anyway. Mum wants E-mail.'

Hermione put down her cutlery. 'This is going to be bad, isn't it?'

'There could be casualties.' They both laughed at their dramatisation of it.

Actually, Ron was almost right. Suddenly, Hermione found herself a stranger at her own wedding. She decided that this had to be stopped, and demanded a meeting with "the mums from hell" as she and Ron had started calling them.

'That's fine dear' said her mum when she called. 'You can join us at 'Il Primo' on Wednesday. We normally get there for around 1 o'clock.' Hermione took the day off work. Il Primo turned out to be an Italian restaurant. Molly and Jean had got in to the habit of meeting there once, or twice, a week to discuss things. The waiters now knew them by name.

'Look' Hermione started, 'we, Ron and I, need to be involved. Take the dress fitting on Monday evening…'

'Oh yes, how did that go?'

'It didn't. NOBODY TOLD ME SHE WAS TURNING UP! We were just heading off to dinner with friends when she arrived on the doorstep.'

Jean Granger dived in to her bag for a notebook, and started scanning through it. 'Ah, sorry, that was my action. I did tell you about the caterers coming tomorrow, didn't I? Oh, well they are.'

Hermione started to massage her temples. 'This is MY wedding. I DON'T WANT IT TO BE A SURPRISE FROM START TO FINISH. I'm assuming Ron is still the groom?'

Jean and Molly gave each other a look that clearly said "She's overtired". 'Have it your way, dear' said Molly.

The next day she had 23 E-mails from them. One asked how many flowers she wanted in each vase on the tables at the reception.

-o0o-

Summer was approaching fast, it was only two months to the wedding, and most things had been sorted out. They had even found a house. It was a lovely little cottage, close to Ottery St Catchpole, and not too far away from her parents in South London either. It needed some work doing to it, so they decided to move in after the wedding was out of the way. It was the ideal time to go. Harry and Ginny had said they were more than welcome to stay, but Ron and Hermione had always dreamed of their own place, and with babies coming or being discussed, more room would be needed by both families soon.

Talking of babies...

BANG BANG BANG 'WAKE UP! WAKE UP!'

Ron and Hermione both leapt out of bed, reaching for their wands. The clock said 2 AM.

'HERMIONE IT'S HARRY. WAKE UP!'

Hermione yanked the door open.

'What is it?'

Harry was pale and shaking. 'It's Ginny. She's burst.' He started dragging Hermione up the stairs, Ron following behind.

Ginny was walking around the bedroom, holding her stomach, looking very scared. Her nightdress was soaking wet.

'Hermione! My waters have broken. What am I going to do?'

Hermione put her hands on Ginny's shoulders. 'You're going to have a baby. Ron? OUT! Look after Harry. Floo the mid-witch.' Ginny had decided to have a home birth, Hermione turned to her. 'Let's get you cleaned up and back in to bed.'

Hermione had planned to stay in case she was needed, but as the labour progressed, she found she couldn't and became very agitated.

'Ron, I want to go back to the flat. We shouldn't be here. We have to go. Now.'

'Why? We can stay here just as easily.'

'No, Ron. Please. I want to go now. Come on.'

She virtually fled back to the flat. Ron followed to find her curled up in a ball under the bedclothes. As he got in beside her, she hugged him tight and cried herself to sleep. Ron thought that, as long as he lived, he would never understand women.

Just before 8 AM they were woken by Harry. 'He's here! I'm a dad!' He was crying, just a little. 'I'm sorry. It's just that…a son. I've got a son. I've got a family.' Harry asked if Ron could call Molly and Arthur and headed back upstairs. Molly cried on the phone, and said they would be over as soon as possible.

Before they went in to work, Ron and Hermione looked in to see their new nephew. Ginny was laid in bed, her hair had been brushed and she was wearing a new, clean nightdress. She looked very tired, but happy. The baby was cradled in her arm.

'Oh, Ginny. He's beautiful. What's his name?'

'James. James Sirius Potter.'

As they looked at him, he began to nuzzle around.

'Look's like he wants a feed' said Ginny, starting to undo buttons.

'Right' said Ron, suddenly standing up and staring straight ahead 'I'd best be off to work. Bye, Ginny.' He almost ran from the room.

Ginny and Hermione looked at each other and laughed. Ginny started feeding James. He knew what to do.

'Was it worth it, Ginny? It sounded….did it hurt?'

'A bit' she replied, and looked down at her son 'but, yes, it's worth it.'


	10. Yours and yours and yours

Ron and Hermione travelled up to Hogwarts the day before the wedding with the immediate family. This gave her parents their first experience of the Floo Network. Arthur and Molly had gone first, to be ready to help them. They stepped out of the fireplace in the Headmistresses study somewhat shaken. Everyone else followed closely behind. Harry and Ginny brought Teddy with them, as well as James of course. Teddy was to be a flower child with Victoire.

Professor McGonagall was greeting each new arrival, saying 'Oh, you've grown up so much!'

She had opened up Gryffindor Tower for them to stay in; each family had a dorm. Ron would have his old dorm to himself, and Hermione would have hers. 'I hope that is suitable?' McGonagall asked. Were her eyes twinkling? Ron and Hermione decided that, for this last time, it was. The parents would have rooms in the girl's tower, everyone else in the boy's tower.

'But dad and Mr. Granger won't be able to up the stairs' said Bill.

'Oh, the charm only affects pupils Bill' said McGonagall. Then she smiled at Arthur. 'Although I seem to remember it didn't stop you. Three times you got up there, wasn't it?' McGonagall had been a young teacher at the time.

He grinned back at her. 'Three times I was _caught_, Minerva.'

All the children gasped as what he had said sunk in. 'Mum!'

'Oh, don't look at me like that. Nothing immoral was going on. Dad used to pop up for a chat. That's all.' She was blushing, though, and not looking them in the eye.

'But how, dad?' Charlie asked. 'How did you manage it?'

'Broomstick' replied Arthur proudly 'didn't have to touch the stairs, you see?' He looked at his sons. 'You mean none of you worked that out? Oh, I feel almost disappointed in you.'

Hermione spent most of the afternoon walking around the school with her parents in the gorgeous summer sun. Finally they were seeing the place that had been such a major influence on her life, but they had only heard about. She showed them the Astronomy Tower where she got in to trouble with Harry, and even the toilets the troll had attacked her in. Her parents were amazed by the portraits, many of whom called out a greeting to Hermione as she passed. They met Nearly Headless Nick, who made a low bow and said what an honour it was.

'No Peeves?' Hermione asked.

'The Bloody Baron has threatened him with dire consequences' said Nick. 'He will be allowed to watch tomorrow from an upper gallery. Under close supervision, naturally.'

They went outside to see the Whomping Willow that Ron had crashed the car in to and walked down to the lake she had been rescued from during the Tri-Wizard tournament, and saw the Giant Squid. Her parents were suitably impressed by it all. Coming back from the lake, she showed them the Forbidden Forest, and they called in on Hagrid. Hermione warned them not to eat anything.

He was thrilled to see Hermione, and gave her a massive hug, saying 'I remember the firs' time I saw yer, and now yer getting' married ter Ron. I knew you was made for each other.' Jane Granger was a little bit scared of him. 'Come with me, I got somethin' ter show yer all.'

They walked behind his hut, and there he had a unicorn that had injured itself. Hagrid was nursing it back to health. The Grangers couldn't believe their eyes. Then there was a rustling in the bushes behind them and Bane stepped out.

'Hermione, I had heard you were in Hogwarts, and I come to wish you well for the future.'

'Thank you Bane, that is very kind.' Hermione had had some dealings with him when the Ministry were trying to establish better relations with the Centaurs. It hadn't come to anything much. He shook hands with her parents, and then melted back in to the forest.

'There aren't any dragons around, are there?' asked John Granger nervously.

'No, 'fraid not' said Hagrid, completely missing the point. 'Wish there could be. I'd love a dragon at Hogwarts. Great creatures, dragons. Remember those four we had for the Tournament, Hermione? Now that were a sight to behold.'

They made their way back up to the school, passing before the Memorial in the Entrance Hall. Mr & Mrs Granger stopped to read the names.

'So many and so young' said Mrs Granger quietly. 'Frederick Weasley. Ron's brother?' Hermione nodded. 'Oh, and here. Lavender Brown. Was that…?

'Yes. She died the day after the battle. I was with her. We'd made up by then. She was my friend.' Tears ran unchecked down Hermione's face. 'She was so brave.'

'Only eighteen' said Mr Granger, putting his arm around her shoulder. 'Such a waste of a young life.'

'Not a waste, dad. Without them, and all the others, we couldn't have had today. I hate to think what the world would have been like if it wasn't for their sacrifice.'

Harry came through the Hall with Teddy. He came over to join them, putting Teddy on his shoulders. They stood in silence.

Suddenly, Teddy said 'Are those the people who died?' 'Yes, Ted' 'Are my mummy and daddy on there?'

Harry took him closer and pointed out the names, next to each other.

'Do you think they were scared?' Teddy wasn't crying, but very still. Harry brought him in to a hug.

'No, Teddy. They weren't scared. They were brave, just like you will be brave.'

Then, as children do, Teddy started wriggling. 'There's Victoire. Can I go and play with her?' He was too young yet to understand. Harry put him down and he rushed off.

As everyone walked away, Hermione paused and turned. 'I'm still trying to keep my promise, Lavender' she whispered.

McGonagall hosted dinner for them all in the Great Hall that evening, and the babies were allowed to stay up as late as they wanted, and eat whatever they wanted, in the belief this would help them sleep well that night. Some hope.

-o0o-

It had been arranged that Hermione, Ginny and Fleur – along with the mums and the flower children – would go to a chamber off the Entrance Hall just after lunch to start getting ready. Harry would take Ron to the room behind the teacher's table later, so there was no chance of them accidentally meeting beforehand.

Just after 2 PM, Hermione could hear people arriving, and kept wanting to go and peep through the door.

'Sit steel 'ermione. I am trying to feex your 'air.' Fleur didn't like being distracted.

Ron and Harry were in their room, playing Wizard Chess. Or trying to. Ron kept forgetting which colour his pieces were.

By 2:40 Hermione was in a fine old state. She kept walking around the room saying 'Oh no! Oh no!' Once she even turned to her mum and said 'What if he runs away?'

Fleur was starting to say 'Pah!' a lot. 'Keep your 'ands by your side! Don't touch your 'air, it weel all come down. Sit down and stay steel. Girlz!'

'Harry, what if she doesn't turn up? What if she leaves me standing there?'

At 2:50, there was a knock on the door, and her father came in resplendent in a pale grey tail coat. He looked at her, and felt a lump in his throat.

'I am so, so proud of you' was all he could manage.

She hugged him fiercely. 'Thank you for being my dad.'

The mums and Fleur left to take their places. 'Don't touch zat 'air, 'ermione, I'm warning you.'

At 2:55, Ron and Harry were called out. 'Ron, please let go of my hand. Hermione might get jealous.'

-o0o-

At precisely 3 o'clock the doors opened as the Triumphal March from "Aida" swelled and Hermione entered the room on her father's arm. There was a collective "Aaah" from the entire ensemble, and the women immediately dipped in to their handbags for a handkerchief. Most men felt their eyes mist over as well. She was a vision of beauty the like of which they had rarely seen.

Hermione wore only the barest minimum make-up, and her jewellery was a simple matching earring and necklace set of tear drop pearls given to her by her parents that morning.

Her dress was a stunning yet simple design of strapless, sleeveless ivory silk. Her bouquet was a posy of roses that matched the colour of her dress perfectly.

Although she had determined to be so cool and elegant on this day of all days, when she saw Ron standing at the head of the aisle with Harry, she immediately began to beam, lighting the whole room with her smile.

Molly Weasley, she noticed, was already sobbing in to Arthur's shoulder.

Ron stared, feasting on the sight of his bride, wanting to hold this moment in his mind forever.

'Oh, Merlin, how ever have I deserved this?'

Harry leant in to him. 'If you ever harm one hair on her head, I will hunt you down and kill you' he whispered.

The party completed their walk, Ginny Potter demurely behind as Matron of Honour. As Mr. Granger handed Hermione to Ron, Harry moved to stand beside his wife, and they linked little fingers. The flower children came and stood besides them, smiling at each other with relief that their job was over.

The music stopped, and an expectant hush fell over the congregation, broken only by the now matching sniffles that came from the two mothers.

'Dearly beloved, these two souls have come here today, before this congregation and those who watch from afar, (Ron had asked for that to be added) to pledge their life to each other. They ask you, as family and friends, to witness their pledge.

Ronald Bilius Weasley, will you take Hermione Jane Granger to be your wife? Will you love her, comfort her, honour and protect her, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?'

'I will'

'Hermione Jane Granger, will you take Ronald Bilius Weasley to be your husband? Will you love him, comfort him, honour and protect him, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?"

'I will.'

The rings were exchanged, and they said to each other 'I give you this ring as a sign of our marriage.'

Then, still facing each other they joined hands and, staring deeply in to each others eyes, spoke the words they had chosen for their personal vows.

Ron spoke first

**The life that I have**  
**Is all that I have**_**  
**_**And the life that I have  
Is yours **

Hermione responded

_The love that I have  
Of the life that I have  
Is yours and yours and yours_**.  
**

Then they spoke a line each of the final verse

_A sleep I shall have  
_**A rest I shall have**_  
Yet death will be but a pause  
_**For the peace of my years**_  
In the long green grass  
_**Will be yours and yours and yours.**

Harry stole a glance at Ginny, and saw the tears running unchecked down her face. He gave up the unequal struggle, and allowed his to join hers. Mrs Weasley and Mrs Granger were both being hugged by their respective husbands, who were also crying like babies.

The new Mr and Mrs Weasley turned to face their guests with smiles as wide as an ocean.

-o0o-

It was such a perfect summer's day that the reception was held outside. Ron and Hermione strolled on the lawn in front of the castle, mingling with their guests and watching the children playing. She noticed Ron looking at them wistfully.

Neville, now Professor Longbottom, came up to greet them and wish them all the best. They thanked him for the floral decorations he had provided in the Hall. Many of their friends were there; Parvati and Dean and Seamus and Luna. They noticed Parvati and Seamus holding hands, and smirked.

Later they went in to change in to their going away outfits. A friend of Charlie's had lent them his lodge in the Romanian mountains for their honeymoon.

Their parents came over to hug them, and so did their old Headmistress.

'Thank you for everything, Professor' said Hermione. 'You've been so very kind to us.'

'It's been a pleasure, Mrs. Weasley,' McGonagall smiled at her 'though I think you will always be Miss Granger to me. A teacher's privilege, you know. This is the best part of my job, seeing my children growing up and making their way in the world.'

Hermione hugged her, and Ron shook hands. Everybody cheered and clapped as they stepped up to the portkey.

-o0o-

They were sat on the veranda, looking out over the mountains illuminated by the moon in a cloudless sky.

'Ron?'

'Yes, love.'

'You know you said you wanted a family? Do you still?

'Yes, I do. I want babies with you. But only if you want them as well.'

'Of course I do. When?'

'I think I'd like them as soon as possible, whilst we're still young.'

They sat in silence for a while, simply enjoying each other's company. She stood and took his hand, pulling him out of his chair and kissing him.

'I suppose I won't need to do the charm tonight, then?'

They went indoors.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Authors Note:

The poem quoted above is "The life that I have" by Leo Marks (1920 – 2001).


	11. One plus one makes three

Hermione and Ginny were sat on chairs in the garden, enjoying a spring-filled April day. Ron and Harry were playing with James. He was crawling now, and they were pretending to turn their backs on him so he could make a freedom dash off the blanket laid on the grass. Every time they dragged him back, he roared with laughter.

Actually, Ginny was sat on a chair. She was pregnant again, but at that stage generally known as "blooming". Hermione was approaching term, so was sprawled, rather inelegantly, doing a very good impression of a beached whale. She was far from blooming.

'Merlin, Ginny, I hate it. I'm fat and ugly and I can't do a thing for myself anymore. It doesn't help that Ron's started treating me like a two year old.'

That was a little unfair on him. He'd simply got concerned when he came home one evening to find her standing on a rickety old chair washing down paintwork by hand. She was definitely in to the nesting phase, which meant random rearrangements of furniture and things turning up in strange places. Once, she moved all his clothes to a kitchen cupboard.

'I wish it was all over now. I can't remember the last time I had a decent sleep. There aren't any comfortable positions any more, and if I do doze off she kicks me awake again.' She paused, and looked in to the distance. 'Gin, I'm getting worried about the birth, as well. Does it hurt really badly?'

'It hurts a bit, but you'll be fine. Honestly. You're brave.'

'I was brave last time' thought Hermione to herself 'but the pain still nearly killed me. Can I go through that again?' She shivered involuntarily as she touched the scar on her neck.

Ginny only saw the shiver. 'Come on, it's not as warm as it looks, let's get you inside.'

Hermione went. It was easier to comply, she could never explain.

'Are you still having the baby here?' Ginny asked.

Hermione switched on the kettle to make tea. They had electricity now, as well. 'Yes, I think mum's finally accepted it.'

Where the baby was to be born had been the cause of a major row between Hermione (home birth) and Jean Granger (muggle hospital).

Hermione had pointed out she wouldn't be able to get there. She had a car and could drive, but Ron couldn't. Jean offered to move in with them, so she could drive when the time came, or Hermione could move back home. Hermione's reply had not been particularly diplomatic.

Jean then went for the safety angle. 'And who, exactly, will be with you when the time comes?'

'There will be a mid-witch here, mum. Like there normally is. Like there was for Ginny, who did perfectly well.'

'And is this "mid-witch" a properly qualified health professional? Or just some old crone you drag in off the streets?'

Hermione gave her mum a very obvious "Look, I'm biting my tongue" look, and the subject was dropped. Not.

'Of course you don't need my advice, do you? I'm sure you've read all the books. Let me tell you, _dear_, you need more than a handful of toads to have a baby.'

Toads? **Toads?**

'They're _NEWTS, _mother!'

'And you've got a "NEWT" in childbirth and parenting, have you?'

'Like you've got an "A" level. I survived.' 'Probably more by luck than judgement' she finished, under her breath.

-o0o-

'AAARRRRRRGGGHHHH!!!!!!' huh, huh, huh, huh.

She collapsed back against the pillow as the contraction passed. She was soaked in sweat, and her hair was plastered to her head. Ron approached with a cold, damp towel.

'DON'T YOU DARE COME NEAR ME, WEASLEY! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! DON'T YOU EVER TOUCH ME AGAIN!'

Ron backed away. Hermione tensed as another contraction built. She turned to him, stretching out her hand, her eyes wide with terror.

'Ron. Please.'

He rushed to her side, holding her hand, and putting his free arm around her shoulders.

'I'm here, Hermione, I'm here. I wish I could help you, I wish I could take your pain away.' He was crying with the guilt and helplessness he felt. It brought back bad memories for him too.

'It hurts so much, Ron. Make it stop. Please.'

The mid-witch came over with a beaker of liquid. 'I want you to drink this, Mrs. Weasley. It will help.'

'What is it?'

'It's just a potion to relax you and help with the pushing. I want you to drink it all. Quickly.'

It had been a very long labour, compared to Ginny's. Fourteen hours she'd been going, and it didn't seem to be coming to an end.

'You're coming along very well dear, and I don't think it will be long now, but you're getting tired, this will help you. Drink it.'

The potion did seem to give her a boost of energy, and just doing something calmed her slightly. A short while later the mid-witch made another examination.

'Now, this time dear I want you to give a really big push. Don't fight against it. That's right. PUSH!'

'AAARRRRRRGGGHHHH!!!!!!'

'Excellent, now one more, this will be it. PUSH!'

'NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! PLEEEEEEASE!! AAARRRRRRGGGHHHH!!!!!!'

And it was all over. There was lots of activity Hermione couldn't see, and then the mid-witch was walking away from her, saying 'Well done, dear! Mr. Weasley, look after your wife, whilst I clean up baby.'

Ron looked down at Hermione, tears spilling from his eyes. 'Did you hear, Hermione? You did it, we've got a baby. Our baby. You're so clever.' She smiled weakly at him through her exhaustion.

'Now, daddy, you come and take baby whilst I sort out mother.' The mid-witch deposited a small, tightly swaddled bundle in his arms and turned her attention to Hermione once more.

'What? But..what do I do?' He looked down at the tiny wrinkled face, which was all he could see through the wrapping. 'I look after you, I suppose. I'm a daddy now, and that's what daddies do, isn't it? Hello, Rosie.'

-o0o-

The euphoria of the birth was soon replaced by a miasma of despair. Here they were, two intelligent people with responsible jobs, totally at sea. They didn't have a clue what was going on. Days passed in a blur of feeding, nappies, sleep deprivation and exhaustion.

Ginny called in on them, but didn't stay long. She wasn't sure they realised she'd been there.

'We've got to do something, Harry. They aren't coping. The place is a tip; there are unwashed dishes on the side and clothes everywhere. Ron looks like he hasn't shaved since she was born.' She wrinkled her nose. 'I'm not sure they've even had a shower.'

'But what can we do, Gin? She's not our baby.'

Ginny looked at him pointedly. 'Hermione needs her mother.' Harry made the call.

Ron answered the knock on the door shortly after ten o'clock the next day. He was still in his pyjamas. Jean Granger stood on the doorstep, carrying a small suitcase. She looked at him, made an 'Hmm' noise and walked in. Going to the living room, her eyes took in everything in one sweep. She looked Hermione, who was wearing a stained nightdress, up and down.

'Where's my grand-daughter?'

'Asleep.'

'Good. Looks like I've arrived just in time. You can go and have a shower, then get dressed and tidy yourself up. And please do something with your hair; it looks like a rat's nest. Go on. Go!' She turned to Ron. 'You're next. You need a shave, did you know that?' She headed for the kitchen. 'I'll make a start in here.'

When Hermione came down from her shower, wearing a dress, she found the washing up had been done, and her mum was bustling around picking up clothes.

'I can't find your Hoover. Where do you keep it?'

'We haven't got one. I use a cleaning charm.' Jean's eyes looked around the room. Her lips were pursed. 'I've…not had the chance to do it for a couple of days' said Hermione defensively.

'So where, exactly, does all the dirt from this "cleaning charm" go, exactly? Down the back of the sofa, by the looks of things. Now, you do have a washing machine, don't you? Or am I expected to drag this lot down to the nearest river and bash it on some rocks?'

'There's a tub outside the back door.'

'_A Tub!' _Jean couldn't have been more outraged if Hermione had announced they were having Rose baked for dinner that evening. 'Do you _honestly_ expect me to stand there up to my armpits in soap suds like some washer woman? I know this world you've chosen is…different, but there's no need to live in the Dark Ages. I'll take it to the launderette; they'll have a service wash. I'll be back in time to make you some lunch.'

Actually, it was almost two o'clock when she returned home, carrying a Hoover she'd brought. 'I got you a washing machine – and a dishwasher – whilst I was out. Dad will come over on Saturday to plumb them in for you.'

'There's no need to do all that', said Ron. 'John might have plans for the weekend.'

'I said "he will", not "I'll ask him", Ronald. Now, has Rose been fed? Good. She'll sleep for a couple of hours, I suggest you two go and do the same. Go!'

'Bring her in to me the moment she wakes up' said Hermione.

'Of course, dear' her mother replied.

It was nearly six o'clock when Jean woke them. 'She can't have slept this long' insisted Hermione.

'Oh, we went for a little walk' Jean said, airily. 'She only needs feeding every four hours. It does them no harm to get in to a routine early on. Now, when you've finished, come downstairs and I'll make you some dinner. Assuming, that is, there's any food in the house.'

'Ron,' snarled Hermione 'if I ever turn in to my mother, you have my permission to shoot me.'

Ron lay there looking from mother to daughter who were locked in a staring match, both their chins thrust forward. He decided that, at this juncture, saying nothing was probably a good idea.

-o0o-

Jean left behind a much more organised house when she went home on Friday, promising to return tomorrow with her husband and the new hardware. He'd hired a van to bring them to the house.

Jean also presented them with a piece of paper each. It was divided in to coloured blocks, and Ron thought it looked vaguely familiar.

'Now, it's very simple. I've put you on a shift system. Ron, you take over Rose when you get home from work. That gives Hermione a chance to have a rest. Use the breast pump I brought you so Ron can do the evening feed. Then, at midnight, you take over again Hermione, so that Ron can get a decent night's sleep. You can always catch up during the day.' She beamed at both of them. 'It's easy when you know how.'

Ron realised. His piece of paper looked just like the revision timetables Hermione used to present him and Harry with each year before exams.

He returned to work a week or so later, to light duties. Harry always arranged things that way for anyone coming back from paternity leave; he wanted to make sure they were out of the Office at a decent time every night.

'Ron, welcome back! How's the baby? And Rose, of course!'

'They're fine, boss. Really great. It was tough for a few days, but then Hermione's mum came over and gave us a hand. It was almost like she knew we were struggling.' He laughed. 'Probably feminine intuition.'

'Yeah, I'm sure it was, Ron. Anyway, let's go and do some work.'


	12. Decisions, decisions

Ron and Hermione entered something of a golden period. She was still on maternity leave for most of that summer, and spent much of it playing in the garden with Rose who had turned in to the most delightful baby; full of smiles. That autumn, they planted a _Rosa mundi _"Rose of the World"for her. Of course it was a coincidence, but it flourished from the very start.

Ginny, a few months after Hermione, gave birth to another son – Albus Severus, always called Al, unless he was in trouble, which wasn't very often. Al was his father in miniature, right down to the unruly hair. He was a more serious child than James, who'd grown in to a little monster. He reminded Ginny so much of Fred that sometimes it hurt.

Rose and Al would be in the same year at Hogwarts, which pleased Hermione. At least her daughter wouldn't be completely on her own, like she had been.

Ginny herself had become a media darling. Everything was going for her: attractive, ex-international, good writer – married to The Harry Potter. The image was carefully cultivated, as well. Of course, there were countless temptations placed in her way, but she never stumbled. No hint of scandal would ever follow her around. If that sounds cynical, it shouldn't. Ginny definitely knew which side her "bread was buttered", and she still loved Harry with a fierce passion.

On returning to work, Hermione continued her rise through the Ministry ranks by becoming a Junior Undersecretary to the Wizengamot. Ron was a Section Head in the Auror's department, now having a team working for him. There was a joke going round the Ministry: "Ron'll wheel you in, Mrs. Ron'll send you down".

Ron's team tended to be formed from young, highly regarded aurors who had energy to burn. When they weren't out on a job, they were training hard, particularly in the "Village of the Damned". Ron knew that real crime would always be in urban areas. Sometimes, he dispensed with the dummies, and they hunted each other down. Stunning spells were allowed. The group tended to socialise together as well, and formed a close knit unit. They called themselves "The Achievers", most others knew them as "The Nutters". They got better results, but took more risks (they called it "pushing the envelope"), and ended up in St Mungo's more often than anyone else.

Money was becoming slightly easier in the Weasley household, and Molly wasn't as young as she used to be. As Rose grew, looking after her became more of a challenge. It didn't help, either, that their work often meant mum and dad didn't always get home bang on time. After careful thought, they decided to employ a House Elf to help them. Winky was the obvious choice, so moved down from Hogwarts. She was in a much better state now, and had stopped drinking a couple of years ago. She was thrilled to be back in a proper house after all this time. Of course, the question of pay had to be handled very delicately; Winky was of the old school. Hermione started at 10 Galleons a week, which she knew was far too high, but allowed herself to be beaten down to five, which was what she wanted to pay anyway.

When Rose was eighteen months old, Hermione found herself pregnant again. This time, she was far more comfortable with the thought. They told both sets of parents who were, of course, thrilled. They swore Molly and Arthur to secrecy, they wanted to tell Harry and Ginny themselves when they next saw them on Sunday. They didn't notice Molly's little smile.

Harry and Ginny arrived shortly after midday. James and Rose immediately headed off to play.

Hermione started the conversation. 'Harry, Ginny, we've got some big news for you.'

'So have we. Ok, as it's your house, you go first.'

'I'm pregnant!'

'No! So am I!'

The children, who had never seen Hermione and Ginny doing their whooping and screaming act, came back in to the room to see what all the fuss was about.

The pregnancy and birth were much more straightforward this time. Sharing it with Ginny made things a lot easier as well. They would often arrange appointments at the same time, so they had an excuse to meet up in London and have lunch together. Discussions often centred around the "What do you want, this time". Ginny quite liked the idea of a girl. She loved seeing Rose in her little dresses, comparing her to James in his trousers that normally had the knees out of them within a few days. Hermione pointed out that Rose wasn't always a girly girl, and was just as likely to be found rolling in the mud as any boy.

Hermione didn't mind, but then thought to the years ahead, and the arguments about 'She's wearing my favourite top' and 'Mum – tell her I can use her make-up if I want to'. Maybe a boy would be easier. She thought that Ron would like a son. 'Well, all men do, don't they?'

They gave birth within a week of each other, Hermione going first. Ron got his son, Hugo. Ginny had a daughter, whom they called Lily. She was definitely the apple of her dad's eye. Both women decided enough was enough, their families were now complete. This was something of a disappointment to Harry, who had always wanted his own Quidditch team.

Once or twice a month, the four would get together for the day. They were inseparable friends now. It delighted them to sit and talk, and watch their children play together. It gave them all a great feeling of satisfaction to mature and the long shadows of the past began to fade in to distant memory. Life was in front of them.

-o0o-

Kingsley Shacklebolt was now firmly embedded in his job, and decided it was time to make changes. He wanted to split the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, creating two new Departments. There had been a view for some time that the people responsible for arresting criminals should not have the same boss as the people doing the sentencing. There was too much scope for hiding dirty laundry, and Kingsley's Ministry would not only be clean, it would be seen to be clean.

The first new Department would be known simply as Law Enforcement and was responsible for upholding the law, so took the Auror's Office and the Magical Law Enforcement Squad. The second would be Law Enactment, responsible for making and applying the law, in other words, the Wizengamot and Improper Use of Magic Office. Each needed its own Senior Undersecretary, and there were only two obvious candidates. Harry became Senior Undersecretary Enforcement. Hermione, Senior Undersecretary Enactment. Both were under thirty years old. The wise money said that, one day, one of them would be Minister for Magic.

Harry immediately set about bringing in the re-organisation he'd dreamed of for years. There were to be just three sections; Operations, Intelligence and Training, each having its own Junior Undersecretary. Ron was called to a meeting with Harry and Kingsley Shacklebolt one Friday afternoon, to be offered the position of Junior Undersecretary (Operations). It was a major promotion, to an important position, and carried a salary to match. It was pointed out that operations was the key area. He would be Harry's deputy in all but name.

His reaction wasn't quite what they had expected. 'Can I think about it?'

'Errm…yes, of course. Aah..well…phew!...can you let us know on Monday?'

'Yeah, I should be able to.'

Ron couldn't settle to anything that afternoon, so left early and spent some time walking around London on his own before apparating home. He knew he had to discuss this with Hermione, and wasn't sure how she would take it. He waited until the children were tucked up in bed for the night.

'Have…you…umm, heard any rumours today? About our reorganisation?'

'Not particularly. Why? Anything interesting happened?'

'Sort of. I've been offered Junior Undersecretary of Operations.'

'Oh Ron! Oh, that's fantastic!' She threw her arms around him, and gave him a big kiss. 'Oh, I'm so proud of you! Wait 'til your mum hears, she'll be thrilled to bits! When do you start?... Ron?... What is it?... Answer me!………….. You haven't turned it down? ...You have.'

'No, I haven't. I said I needed to think about it, and I wanted to talk to you.'

'What is there to think about, Ron? It's a fantastic job, a promotion, more money…'

'Do we need the money?'

'Well, no … But that's not the point. Why wouldn't you want it?'

'It's a robe and tie job. I'd be flying a desk; meetings, reports, committees. I'm not sure that's me. I belong out there, at the sharp end. Doing the work.'

A phrase came to Hermione's mind from her childhood. 'A "good old-fashioned copper", you mean. Pounding the beat. Dragging in some low-life who's been selling dodgy cauldrons that fell off the back of a broomstick.'

He looked away from her. 'That's not fair, Hermione. My team are the best. We get the jobs no-one else can do.'

'No-one else wants, you mean. They like living.'

'Everybody wants to be in it, though, don't they? You can't deny that.'

'What about Philpott, and that Burkes? They turned you down.'

'That's different. They're married; they've got ki…..' Not his best argument.

'What about you, Ron? What have you got upstairs? Or here? What am I to you?'

He ran his hand across his face. 'I love my job. It's what I do best. There's still plenty of scum out there, and I want them off the streets.'

She laughed humourlessly. 'And you can't do that unless you're kicking in a door and saying "Make my day, punk"? Is that it? You've done your bit at the "sharp end", Ron. Let someone else put themselves in the firing line for a change.'

They sat in silence for a while before Hermione spoke. 'I'm going up to bed. I'm tired.'

When Ron went up several hours later, it was obvious she was only pretending to be asleep. They had a very similar conversation on the Saturday, resolving nothing.

On Sunday evening, he tried again.

'I said I'd give them my answer tomorrow.'

'So, what are you going to say?'

'I don't know. What do you think I should do?'

'It's up to you, Ron. It's your choice.'

'Would you back me, whatever I decided?'

She looked at him, her face a mask. 'What if I wouldn't, Ron? What if I said it was the job, or me? What then?'

He sat stunned for a moment. 'You mean…..you'll divorce me unless I take this job?'

She slumped back in to the sofa. 'No, Ron, I wouldn't. And you bloody well know it, don't you?' The tears were running silently down her cheeks. 'That's what I get for being married to the man I love, I suppose.'

First thing Monday morning, Ron went in to see Harry. 'Sorry, boss, not my cup of tea. You'll have to find somebody else.'

Harry saw Hermione in the corridor later that day and smiled at her. She didn't smile back.

'I wouldn't bother for a few days if I were you, Harry. Not until I've calmed down. I'm blaming you for this.'

'Oh, come on Hermione. What could I do about it?'

'You could have told him to take it, not asked.' she said bitterly. 'You gave him the chance to think. That's always a mistake.'

The job wents to Annets. He was older than Ron, and a safe pairs of hands, with no charisma what-so-ever. He was very good to have on committees, and wrote detailed reports which nobody read.


	13. We are family

Life returned to normality again and the sun continued to rise each morning as the years passed. Their children were growing and as they did, they developed their own personalities, likes and dislikes.

Rose took mainly after her mum. She looked very much like Hermione right down to her frizzy hair, but it was Weasley red, not brown. Like her mother, she loved books and applied an almost frightening level of intelligence to any she read. Everything had to be analysed.

Hermione wanted her to be part of the muggle world as well as the magical, and so turned all her children's books over to Rose. It led to some interesting discussions.

'Mummy, you know that part in Cinderella where the Fairy Godmother turns the mice in to horses? Do you think she would have used _Engorgio _before she transfigured them, or afterwards?'

'I don't know. I'm not sure if it's possible to do that transfiguration, anyway.'

'Why did Cinderella have glass slippers? I don't think they would be very comfortable, and wouldn't they be dangerous if they broke? She could get a nasty cut.'

'It's only a story, dear, not real. Now off you go to sleep.'

Also (taking after her mother but nobody ever said it to Hermione), she could be slightly bossy and domineering. Hugo bore the brunt of it, of course, and took it stoically. Al Potter wasn't so resilient. He tended to get fed up eventually and shout at her, which would make Rose cry. Ginny or Harry would then tell Al off, which made Rose feel guilty and she would apologise to him and everything would calm down, until the next time. James was far better equipped. He could turn her aside with humour, and a well chosen comment would deflate her like a popped balloon.

Hugo was the image of Ron. He also had a much better developed sense of humour than his sister, and in many ways a keener wit. Whereas Rose wanted to analyse and discuss, Hugo took things more at face value. He would come to a decision almost immediately, and once his mind was made up he stuck to his guns, even if he was wrong.

Bath times went through a stage of being a bit of a nightmare. Whereas it was possible to discuss hygiene and cleanliness with Rose, and point out the importance of maintaining them, Hugo would dig his heels in. On more than one occasion he stuck his nose in to his armpit and proudly announced 'I don't smell, so I don't need a bath, do I?'

When his mum said that wasn't the important thing, and that he was dirty anyway, he would start to argue back, until eventually he just got told. Mummy and daddy both discovered the benefit of 'BECAUSE I SAID SO, THAT'S WHY! NOW GO'

Despite this, Hugo was actually the more loving of the two. Rose was fairly self contained, so would head off with a book long before she was sent to bed. Hugo preferred to be read to and his favourite time was when he could lay in bed listening to his mummy and stroking her hair until he fell asleep. He loved the feel of it, and made her promise never to get it cut.

Ron enjoyed his family as well. He had been secretly glad when Hermione said she only wanted to stop at two. His own childhood had been a constant competition for attention, but with his own children he could devote time to them both. Hugo loved flying, and often badgered his father to take him for a ride. He had a broomstick before he went to Hogwarts, and showed signs of being a promising keeper.

His big regret was that Rose showed no interest in flying at all, just like her mum. What she liked were shopping expeditions with Hermione. They were capable of making a trip last a whole day, having lunch whilst they were out. The two of them would chatter away, and it was almost possible to believe they were sisters, rather than parent and child.

-o0o-

At work, Ron continued to build his team of "Achievers" many of whom went on to become Section Heads of their own teams. Some went even higher, and were promoted above him. Ron never minded this; indeed he was proud of them. They, in turn, realised what a good team leader he had been, and many of his methods were adopted by them.

Hermione had accepted that Ron wanted to be on the front line, and the office was not for him. He never sought promotion, nor was it offered. Accepting is not the same as liking though, and many nights Hermione lay awake when he was out on a job, hugging his pillow and waiting for him to come home. Sometimes, if sleep was impossible, she would simply stand in her children's doorways, watching them. She never told him that, until much later.

She spent several years involved, perhaps too closely, in trying to get werewolf rights on to the books. It was not an easy task; prejudices ran deep on both sides. Many wizards still considered that werewolves no longer had the right to be considered human, and should actually be classified as a different species.

The merest hint of "equality" was enough to send some people in to frenzy, especially if it ever coincided with an attack. These were incredibly rare in Britain, but the more sensationalist aspects of the press would scour the world for stories, running them under headlines such as:

"**The right to human flesh? What equality could mean for YOUR children."**

Surprisingly, some of the more radicalised werewolves disapproved of legislation as well. Being a werewolf, for them, became a badge of honour. One thing that drove them to a fury was a Ministry proposal for a voluntary registration scheme that would allow applicants free access to Wolfbane potion.

'Today "voluntary registration", tomorrow "compulsory", next week "a cure"?' they would say. Herbologists offering Wolfbane were accused of "genocide".

Of course Hermione, as senior undersecretary, was in the middle of all this. She wished that Remus was still here to help her. His intelligence and quiet persona would have been a great help in bridging the gap. Progress was pitifully slow and only a partial success. It remained, for Hermione, one of the great disappointments in her life.

-o0o-

On Rose's 11th birthday, they had a huge party for her. It had come as a slight shock to them to realise this would be the last one she would spend at home until she was nineteen, as there would be no school holidays which would coincide. She would leave as a girl, and return a woman. Fortunately it was a nice day, so they could use the garden. The house wouldn't have been able to cope, as everybody turned up.

By mid-afternoon all the guests had been fed, the adults were sat around chatting, and the younger children had used up that first burst of energy racing each other around the garden. The "in-betweenies", those children approaching young adulthood, had retreated to a low wall in the garden, where they sat texting the friends they would far rather be with. Most young wizards now had mobile phones, the old order was changing.

All of Ron's brothers (and sister, of course) had turned up, including Charlie. Both sets of parents were there as well, along with Andromeda and Teddy. Hermione slipped an arm around Ron's waist. 'To think my birthdays used to be just me and mum and dad and maybe my grandparents. I'm glad our children have got a big family around them. It will make it easier when they start school.'

Ron kissed the top of her head. 'Rose'll be OK. She'll be in Gryffindor with Al and James, they can look after each other, and there are plenty of older cousins as well.'

'She won't necessarily be in Gryffindor, Ron. And you shouldn't go on about it to her.' She held up her hand. 'No, I know you're only joking, but she's started to take you seriously. She might be sorted somewhere else.'

'She won't Hermione; Weasleys have been Gryffindor since whenever.' Hermione said nothing. She'd never told Ron what nearly happened to her.

Hermione went indoors to start getting the next lot of food ready. Weasleys didn't stay quiet for long; they needed feeding on a regular basis. Although the dishwasher was going full blast, they were running out of plates and she needed some spares from the dining room. As she opened the door there was a squeal, and Victoire shot across the room like a scalded cat. Teddy was sat on a chair looking very guilty.

'Hello, Aunt Hermione. Teddy and I were …just…looking at these photographs here.' She gestured vaguely. 'Weren't we Teddy?'

Teddy nodded cautiously, and then disappeared from the room so fast he might have disapparated. Victoire stood there playing with her hands, not quite sure what reaction she was going to get.

'Yes, they are nice, aren't they? I needed more plates. Do you want to give me a hand?'

They took the plates in to the kitchen, and worked together in silence for a few minutes.

'Are you going to tell mum?'

Hermione tried to suppress her smile. 'I don't think she'll be very interested in you looking at a few pictures, will she? Victoire, I haven't always been a wife and a mother, you know. I used to be a girl as well, so did your mum, and very popular with the boys if I remember correctly. You can talk to her, she'll understand.'

They carried on working.

'So, your and Teddy's…interest in photography. Is it serious?'

Victoire had to think for a moment. 'Oh, well…' She turned to her aunt with a slightly hopeless look. 'I don't know. We've known each other for ages of course, and we were sort of seeing each other at school, but I don't know what will happen now he's left. What if he meets somebody else? Someone who isn't still a schoolgirl? We'll be miles apart. I do love him, honestly I do, but…I'm scared I'll lose him.' Tears were very near.

Hermione held out her arms and took Victoire in to a hug. 'If you love each other, it doesn't matter if you're together or not. If he truly loves you, he won't be interested in anyone else. If he does…well, then maybe it was just never meant to be. You're both still very young; just take each day as it comes. OK?'

Victoire nodded and wiped her eyes. 'Thank you.'

'Come on; let's get this food outside before your dad and uncles come hunting. They haven't eaten for an hour; they must be starving by now.'

-o0o-

A few weeks after the party they were just about to sit down to dinner one evening when Rose put her head round the door, silently beckoning Hermione to come out. She did, but returned a few minutes later to carry on dishing up.

'Where's Rosie, mum?'

'She'll be down in a minute. Do you want some more carrots?'

'Why will she be down in a minute? Why isn't she here now?'

'Never you mind, just eat your dinner.'

Shortly afterwards, Rose joined them and nothing more was said. Later that evening, Ron asked Hermione what it was all about.

'Your little girl isn't so little anymore.' He looked at her quizzically and she raised her eyebrows. 'Women's things, Ron.' He shut up. 'Rose and I will need to go shopping one day soon. You and Hugo will be staying here.' Ron didn't argue.

The Hogwarts letter arrived soon afterwards, and the whole family planned a day in Diagon Alley. They met up with the Potters. Rose and Al were in a fine old state, rushing from shop to shop and agonising over what colour quills to buy and how much parchment they would need. Hugo and Lily trailed along behind, quite miserable, and complaining loudly that it wasn't fair. What wasn't fair, exactly, they couldn't explain.

In Ollivanders, they were greeted by the old man himself. Hermione had not seen him since that time at Shell Cottage nineteen years ago, and she thought he looked incredibly frail. He now only served special customers himself, everyone else being seen to by his son. They never realised he had one.

Al was finally chosen by an ash wand with unicorn core. Rose became the owner of a willow and dragon heart string wand.

'Interesting, very interesting' said Ollivander. 'A combination of your parents, I see. Not unknown, of course, but unusual. I think we can expect something unusual from you too, young lady.'

Nobody could make any sense of that as they headed to Eylops Owl Emporium. Both children wanted owls as pets. For Rose, it meant she would always be in touch, for Al – well it was simpler than expecting him and James to share anything. They both chose tawny owls, and very beautiful they were too.

It was 2 o'clock on the morning of the 1st of September when Ron was awoken. At first, he couldn't figure out what it was, he was normally a very heavy sleeper. Then he heard a muffled sob.

'Hermione? Are you alright?' She rolled over and burrowed in to his arms.

Through her sobs and hiccoughs he managed to hear her say 'Oh Ron. My baby, she's so little and we're sending her away.'

'We're not sending her away, silly, she's just going to school. She'll be fine. She'll love it, just like we did.' He paused and stroked her hair. 'Are you crying for her, or you?'

She didn't reply, and they drifted back off to sleep again in each other's arms.

-o0o-

They stood on the platform, watching the train round the bend and disappear from sight. Hugo slowly lowered his arm and turned to them.

'I will miss her, you know, even if she is my sister.' Was that a tear they could see? He went to join Lily as everybody started to drift away, then came running back to them.

'Can I stay over at Lily's tonight? Aunt Ginny says it's OK. Please?'

They agreed he could, and he brightened up immediately. Ginny and Harry confirmed it would be fine, Ginny saying it was a good idea. 'I remember when Ron went, I was so miserable…'

'Oh, did you miss me? Oh, that's sooo sweet'. He turned to the others. 'See, I told you she loved me!' Ginny gave him a slap.

'It was so quiet in the house.' she continued 'It will probably do them good to have a bit of company the first night.'

Ron and Hermione got home, sat down and looked at each other. The house was quiet, quieter than it had been for eleven long years.

'Hello.'

'Hello. Have we met?'

'Not for a long time. I'm Ron.' He put on a young boy voice. 'Do you want to go to the pictures wif me?'

She put on a young girl voice. 'Alright. But mummy says I've got to come straight home, and no holding hands.'

They kept up the act, even going so far as to sit in the back row. Actually, it was quite like a date, it had been a long time since they had been a couple rather than parents. At first, they found it quite hard to think what to talk about that didn't involve the children. Half way through the film, he slipped his arm round her shoulder, very tentatively.

'I promised I'd be good' she said, sitting up a little straighter.

'Excellent' he said, pulling her back in. 'Best news I've had all day.'

She giggled, and gave him a prod. 'Pack it in; I know what you boys are like.' They sat there for a while, and then she whispered to him 'It's not a very good film, is it? Shall we go home?'

It was a good job nobody surprised them with an early call the next day, there were clothes all over the living room.

-o0o-

It wasn't a hopeful sign when Rose's first letter home started with the rather startling sentence 'I know you will be disappointed in me, and I'm so so sorry…'

Rose had been sorted in to Ravenclaw, and her dad was not impressed as he strode around the living room.

'It's ridiculous, completely ridiculous. I'll write to McGonagall, there's obviously been a mistake. The hat's probably gone senile. There must be an appeal procedure somewhere. Weasleys are always in Gryffindor.'

'Ron, calm down. It's not the end of the world. I told you not to keep going on about it, look how upset she is. Anyway, she isn't just a Weasley, she's a Granger too.'

'What do you mean? You were the first one to go to Hogwarts.'

'I know, but…I've never told you this before…the hat, well, it tried to put me in Ravenclaw too.' Ron was staring at her in disbelief. 'It only didn't because it said I would need a lot of bravery because I didn't know anybody.' She paused. 'Ron, she's in Ravenclaw _because_ she's a Weasley, not despite.'

Ron ran his hand through his hair, and calmed down a bit.

'You're probably right, and we always knew she was intelligent, didn't we? This proves it. Ha! My daughter, the genius. First one in the family, not even perfect Percy got a kid in there.' He was obviously making the best of a bad job. He looked at Hermione sheepishly. 'She thinks she's let us – well me – down, doesn't she? I'll write to her now, and tell her how proud we are, I am, of her. I'll tell her she must be even cleverer than her mum who was, after all, the brightest witch of her generation and still ended up in bonehead old Gryffindor!'

Hermione got up and hugged him. 'You know, your emotional range had definitely improved. Besides, you aren't the only one who's had a shock today.' She looked back at the letter, trying to stop herself laughing, and read out 'You know that boy you were talking about on the platform? Scorpius Malfoy? He's in Ravenclaw as well. He doesn't seem to know anybody here at all. He was all alone on the train, so I started talking to him. He seems nice, but very shy. Now he's in the same house, I think we'll become good friends.'

'Hermione, I've got a very bad feeling about this. I might see if we can get her moved, after all.'


	14. Ron Weasley and the Midlife crisis

Ron was not a happy man at all. He was not even remotely cheery. He'd argued, he'd sulked, he'd even tried having a temper tantrum on the office floor (well, not quite, but you know what I mean), but it was no good. Annets was still insisting he mentor one of the first year trainees.

'Why me? What have I done wrong?'

'Ron, it's an honour. No, honestly, it is. This trainee will look up to you. They'll feel pride at being mentored by the best Sector Head we've got.'

Monday morning breakfast in the Weasley household was not even remotely cheery either. Hermione had tried to use all the same arguments as Ron's boss, without success.

'I still don't see why it has to be me. I'm a dad already; I don't need another kid trailing after me. I hate the first years. A bunch of know-nothing know-it-alls. You know what we call them, don't you? Lighthouses in the desert. Bright, but no bloody use to anybody.

He'll spend half the day telling me I'm doing everything wrong - because he's read a book about being an auror, so he's already an expert - and the other half whining because he's not had his lunchtime nap.'

'Oh Ron, you are so unfair. They're not children, and they've still got all that enthusiasm. You should harness it.'

Ron's bad mood last for at least 0.25 seconds after Leanne was introduced to him.

'Good morning, Mr, Weasley. I'm so glad you've been chosen as my mentor. I'm a great admirer of yours. I spent the whole weekend reading up everything I could find on you. I particularly admired the way you remembered the Basilik fangs were still in the Chamber during the battle, and how you copied Mr. Potter's parcel tongue to open it. That was sooo cool. I'm so sorry about your brother Fred, though. You must be very proud of him. Is it true what you did in Gringotts? The dragon and everything? Cool! You played keeper for Gryffindor, didn't you? I read …'

-o0o-

It took Hermione a few days to notice the change. Ron had started asking her opinion on which tie to wear, something he had never bothered about before. In all those years, the fact he might go out in a red tie with a blue shirt had never worried him.

No, it wasn't the ties that caught her attention; it was the smell when he walked in to the kitchen for breakfast one morning.

Sniff sniff. 'Ron, what have you got on?'

'Aftershave.'

'Why?'

'It's not illegal, is it? I just thought I'd splash some on.' He paused in front of the mirror, pulling his face from side to side. 'Do you think I should grow a moustache?'

'No, Ron. It would make you look like you've got a big red hairy caterpillar on your lip. Come and eat your breakfast.'

He sat down with a yogurt, rather than his usual toast and jam, noticing Hermione's look.

'I think I could do with losing a few pounds. Nothing drastic, just a bit of a tone-up. I know I've passed the big Four-O, but that isn't an excuse to let myself run to seed, is it?'

On Saturday, he announced he was going to get a hair cut. Hermione had been starting to worry when he wasn't back after two hours. By the time he did turn up, four hours later, she was close to panic.

'Ron! Where have you been? I was starting to….what have you done?' He hadn't just had his hair cut, he'd had it styled, and his arms were full of bags. 'What's in there?'

'I fancied a change. I'd had that haircut for years, and then I saw a couple of things in a clothes shop I liked.'

She started looked through his purchases. 'But I always buy your clothes for you, and aren't these...' she said, pulling out a pair of trousers cut in the latest fashion ' just a bit, well - young, for you?'

'Oh, Hermione! You have to move with the times, I'm not ready for my pipe and slippers just yet!' He pulled himself up and slapped his stomach. It went "splot". 'I'm in the prime of life, not an old man.'

On Wednesday, Hermione had been about to walk in to Ron's office when she realised there was somebody else already with him. She looked in through the window. Ron was leaning back in his chair, talking. His visitor, a young girl, was hanging on to his every word, with a look of pure adulation on her face. She laughed, and flicked her long blonde hair back. Hermione turned to the secretary.

'Who's he got in with him?'

'Oh, that's Leanne, new intake, he's mentoring her. Shall I give him a message?'

'No, it's OK. It was nothing important.'

On Thursday, she suggested they lunch together. 'Sorry, love, no can do. I've got an all day meeting planned.'

On Friday evening, she was sorting out the washing, ready for an early start in the morning. By force of habit, she checked all Ron's pockets. Many years ago, he'd left a stick of Droobles Best Blowing Gum in one, and they'd had to buy a new washing machine. All she found was one piece of paper. It was a bill from "Casa Madre" for two pizzas and a bottle of wine. It had yesterday's date on it.

She sat on the floor, staring at this flimsy little traitor that was telling lies about her husband. Her hands shook slightly. Perhaps there was a perfectly innocent explanation - perhaps. Well, that was easy enough to solve.

Ron was sat in the living room, reading "The Evening Prophet".

'You never told me, how did your meeting go yesterday?'

'Meeting? Oh, that meeting. Boring. Very long and very boring.'

'So, did you manage to get any lunch?' She struggled to keep her voice disinterested.

'No chance. We got some sandwiches sent to the desk.' He smiled up at her and returned to his paper.

Hermione thanked God, Merlin and anyone else she could think of that she'd finally persuaded Ginny to get a mobile phone. It was so much easier than the Floo network, and more private.

'Ginny? It's Hermione. Can I talk to you, now? I need to come over.'

'Of course, we're not doing anything. I'll uncork a bottle of wine and see you in a minute.'

-o0o-

Ginny sat in the kitchen, watching her friend and sister-in-law walking aimlessly around, occasionally picking something up and putting it back down again.

'Hermione, come and sit down. Tell Mummy what's wrong.'

She knew Harry wouldn't disturb them, he'd been told to STAY in the living room. Hermione sat, running her hand across her face.

'It's Ron. He's…having an affair.'

'No!'

Hermione pushed the bill across the table. 'He told me he was in a meeting all day; he'd had sandwiches at his desk.' She put her face in her hands. 'You know what's happened to me, don't you? I've been traded in for a younger model. I'm not the first, I suppose. After all, I've just cooked and cleaned for him all these years, and given him children. Now Hugo's at school he doesn't need me any more. God! I've been so stupid. I should have spotted it; new hair cut, new clothes. He's even started putting on aftershave.'

'Hermione, are you sure? This is Ron we're talking about. He's actually having an affair? Do you know who it is?' Ginny still sounded in shock.

'A first year trainee. All thirty two inch hips, pert breasts and fluttering eyelashes. How am I supposed to compete with her? I'm frumpy and forty and she's about nineteen. Oh no, Ginny! She's only about six years older than Rosie! She probably knows her from school. They might even have been in the same house! How do I tell her what her dad's done? It'll destroy her! What am I going to do?'

'Hermione, listen to me, he's not having an affair, I'm convinced about it. I know about this sort of thing; it's called "The Male Menopause". He's trying to convince himself he's still young and attractive. Men get a bit stupid over things like that and let's be honest - I know he's your husband - but when it comes to stupid Ron has got a head start.'

'So what am I going to do?'

'There's no point talking to idiot brain, he'll just deny everything. Then he'll get all defensive and accuse you of being "hormonal", it's their standard fall back excuse.' She added as an afterthought 'Then he'll buy you some flowers.'

'Ginny! Oh, I'm so sorry.'

'What? No, not me! It happened to a friend of mine. Harry wouldn't dare. Stop looking at me like that! Anyway, you need to talk to her. She probably doesn't even realise what's going on. Let her slap him down, it's much easier.'

'Did it work for…your friend?'

Ginny looked down at the table. 'Yes. He was just being a prat, Hermione, that's all.'

-o0o-

Hermione began finding excuses to walk round the corridors leading to the aurors offices, hoping to "bump in" to Leanne. A couple of days later, she did.

The girl smiled at her and said 'Hello' as she went past. Hermione decided it was now or never.

'Hello. You're Leanne, aren't you?'

The girl paused and looked back, slightly confused. 'That's right. I don't think we've met though.'

Hermione smiled, even though her insides were coiling like snakes. What if Ginny were wrong?

'I'm Hermione Weasley, Ron's wife.'

Leanne's eyes opened wide. 'Oh, you used to be Hermione Granger, didn't you? When you were young, of course, years ago.' Hermione pursed her lips. 'I was sooo hoping I'd meet you one day. I knew you worked here of course. This is sooo cool! You know Ron's…Mr Weasley is my mentor, don't you? He's a fantastic mentor, sooo good, and really interested in my career. He took me to lunch the other day so we could discuss career paths; he's helping me with my assessments and everything. It's sooo cool; all the other trainees are sooo jealous of me!' Leanne giggled, Hermione gave a sickly smile, what _did_ he see in her? Of course! Young, blonde, adoring, giggly – it was Lavender all over again. 'He says there's a conference he may have to attend in …oh, somewhere, and it might be a good idea for me to go along with him, it could be really useful background stuff.'

Hermione held up her hand to try and stop the torrent of words. She was already getting a headache. There was a small conference room close by, thankfully empty.

'Would you mind stepping in here a moment? I think we need to talk.'

Ten minutes later, a rather chastened Leanne left the room. 'I'm so sorry, Mrs Weasley, I never realised. I just thought he was being kind to me. I feel a bit of a fool. I could never facy him, he's sooo old. No offence.'

Hermione took a calming breath. She did** not** like this girl. 'It's alright; it's not your fault. Men, especially older men, can be a bit…silly some times. They don't really mean it, I think it's their hormones, but the consequences can be unfortunate. I am sure you have a great career ahead of you, and it would be silly to spoil it.' She hesitated. 'Do you actually want to be an operational auror? It's something I've never fancied myself; the night work, the danger, the injuries…' Leanne looked at her, startled. 'That's fine for the macho men who enjoy the rough and tumble, but they're useless without the back up. They can't achieve anything without information, you know, the background work done by the intelligence teams, the people with brains. Have a think about it. I hope we meet again soon.'

-o0o-

Ron wasn't in a very good mood when he got home that evening. 'My trainee's getting a new mentor.'

'Is she?'

Ron looked up sharply. 'How did you know she was a she? I'd never mentioned that.'

'You know what the Ministry's like for rumours. Still you must be pleased; you never wanted a trainee in the first place, did you? Why did she get shifted?'

'Said she decided she wasn't cut out for operations. Wants to go in to Intelligence. Pity. I thought she had a great potential.'

'Oh, yes. And I bet you couldn't wait to get your hands on her _great potential_, could you?' Ron looked at her. Her eyes had become narrow slits. That wasn't a good sign.

He decided to change the subject. 'Anyway, what are we eating tonight?''

'Let's eat out. I quite fancy a pizza. Anywhere you'd recommend? What about "Casa Madre"?'

Ron blanched. 'Listen, Hermione, I can...'

She walked up to him and put a finger on his lips. 'I'd strongly recommend you don't say a single word right now, _Won-Won_. Just kiss me.'

He did as he was told. She broke off the kiss, but left her arms round his neck. 'I threw out that bottle of aftershave, it never suited you. And please do something about your hair; you look ridiculous.'

He nodded, and then looked at her, his eyes troubled. 'Hermione, I...' She kissed him again to shut him up.

'Come on, you silly old fool, let's go and eat. I'll pay; I've got something to celebrate.'


	15. Kids, eh? Part 1

Christmas was going to be very quiet that year. Last spring, a virulent new strain of 'flu had swept the country, targeting the elderly in particular. Both Arthur Weasley and John Granger had succumbed within a week of each other. Molly had almost followed them, at one stage her chances had been put at no better than 50:50, but she scraped through, though her recovery had been very slow, hindered by mourning for the husband who had been constant companion for so many years. She was still at Shell Cottage, trying to rebuild her strength and life. For some reason, perhaps a natural immunity, or being slightly younger, Jean Granger had not been infected. Although devastated by the loss of her husband, she was maintaining a very stiff upper lip, and pretending nothing was wrong.

Hugo kicked the door open at some ridiculous hour on Christmas morning.

'PRESENTS!' he yelled, pulling the quilt off his parents, and rushing out of the room to wake his sister. Fortunately, Ron and Hermione only caught the end of her response, which was '…off, you prat!'

'Hugo! Leave your sister alone, and don't open anything until we're all downstairs. And be quiet, Granny's still asleep.'

'It's alright, dears, I've been up for hours. I don't need much sleep anymore. Come on, Hugo, you can help me make some tea.'

Eventually they were gathered downstairs, and Ron was getting impatient waiting for Rose, who insisted on having a shower, doing her hair and putting on some make-up first. Hugo was bouncing around like a rubber ball.

There was something magical about that time. Although it was getting light outside, they kept the curtains drawn. Hermione had charmed a fire in the grate, and the resin sharp scent of the tree permeated the room. Once Rose had arrived, the opening could begin.

Hermione had noticed the rather large, book shaped, present on Rose's pile and was curious about it. It wasn't from the family.

'Who's that from?' she asked casually.

Rose had left it as the last present to open and was now carefully removing the paper. She started to laugh. 'It's Uncle Neville's new book, I've wanted it for ages.' she said, deftly avoiding the real question. 'Look.' Sure enough, she was holding up 'Northern European Herbology' by Professor N. Longbottom for them all to see.

Rose excelled in Herbology, along with Potions, Charms, Arithmancy and most of the other seven subjects she was taking at OWLS. Once she had learned her mother had taken eleven subjects at once, she wasn't going to do anything less.

'So, who's it from? Neville? That's nice.'

'No. Scorp. I got a copy for him as well, isn't that funny? But I got Uncle Neville to sign it for him.'

Ron was sat rather stiffly next to Hermione on the sofa. Rose's continuing friendship with Scorpius Malfoy did not please him, but he had taken the view "Least said, soonest mended". Hermione was only slightly more relaxed about it. After all, they were only children, and not to blame.

'I think he got it signed as well, didn't he' said Hermione. 'I can see some writing inside the front cover. What does it say?'

'Nothing' said Rose, quickly turning the book away.

Unfortunately, that brought her within range of Hugo, who grabbed her wrists and read the dedication in a very affected voice:

"No flower in this entire book

Can compare to my fair Rose.

All my love

Scorp."

He mimed being sick, then collapsed giggling and made "kissy kissy" noises at her. She turned beetroot red.

'You, Are. So. Dead. Hugo'

Ron was staring at the ceiling, and starting to shake slightly. Hermione decided quick action was need.

'Right, pack it in you two. Rose, get your presents upstairs. Hugo, pick up the paper. Ron, you're coming in the kitchen with me to start breakfast. Mum…don't move.'

'Actually, mum, whilst we're …on the subject, I was sort of wondering if you'd mind if Scorp came to stay for a few days after Christmas. We've sort of got a few essays that need writing, and…well, we could work on them together.'

Hermione glanced at Ron. 'I don't think so, Rose. We haven't really got the room, not with Gran being here…and everything.' She knew it was a weak finish, but Rose didn't catch on, for all her intelligence.

'Could I go and stay with him then?'

'NO! Let him do his own homework instead of scrounging off you.' Ron had finally found his voice.

'He doesn't scrounge, dad! We work on them together. He's as good as me. We inspire each other.'

That was true. Even amongst their fellow Ravenclaws they were recognised as being right up amongst the very best. Work had almost been turned in to a competition. More than anything else, they loved comparing marks to see who had come out on top; it was an incentive to work harder and harder, which helped explain the amazing results she got in the year end exams. Of course, that wasn't something you could ever tell your parents. She wasn't sure if she was in love with Scorpius, quite. Or hadn't been sure until then. It was amazingly like the relationship her parents had had, if only she'd realised. They spent all their time together, to the almost total exclusion of everyone else. They were soul mates as well as work mates.

'You're not going,'

'Ron, we'll talk about it later.'

'She's not going, that's the end of it.'

'But why, dad?'

'BECAUSE I SAID SO.'

Rose glared at her father, and then stormed from the room, taking the book with her and slamming the door.

'Ron, calm down. Please.'

'SHE'S NOT GOING!' Ron was slipping beyond the edge of reason. 'You may have forgotten, but I haven't, nor forgiven. No daughter of mine will ever set foot inside that place. '

Then Jean just had to go and put her two pence worth in. 'But I don't understand - he seems a nice enough boy.'

Ron turned to her. 'You've asked in the past where that scar came from on her neck…' he was pointing at Hermione.

'NO, RON! PLEASE! STOP IT!' But he was beyond hearing.

'They did it to her in his house. THAT'S WHERE THEY TOOK US TO TORTURE YOUR DAUGHTER!'

There was a shriek from outside, and the sound of footsteps running up the stairs.

'YOU ARSE, WEASLEY. YOU COMPLETE ARSE. SHE HEARD YOU. SHE WAS LISTENING.'

Suddenly Hugo was between them, hysterical and crying. He'd been completely forgotten about.

'Mum! Dad! Stop it, please! Why are you fighting? Stop it, please!'

Hugo's voice acted like a bucket of ice cold water on Ron. He stared at Hermione, as if seeing her for the first time.

'What have I done? Rose! I'll go to her.'

Hermione snatched up her wand and pointed it in his face. 'STAY AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER!' She fled from the room and up the stairs. Ron seemed to go in to some kind of trance, just staring after her.

Jean stood and put her arms around Hugo. 'Come with me, now.'

She had to get him out of that house to somewhere safe. They would return to her home, he would stay with her over night at least. Hugo had to be protected from whatever was going to happen next, that was her main concern. She put him in the car and drove off.

To be continued…….


	16. Kids, eh? Part 2

'Rose, its mum. Can I come in, please?'

There was no reply, but Hermione opened the door and looked in. Rose was lying on the bed, facing the wall, Scorpius' present clutched in her arms. She crossed over to the bed and sat down tentatively on the edge.

'I'm so, so sorry you had to hear it like that; that you had to hear it at all.'

'Why didn't you ever tell me? All these years I've been telling you about my best friend, my only friend, and you never said anything.'

Hermione tried to stroke Rose's hair, but the girl pulled herself away. This hurt Hermione more than she could have ever imagined.

'What did happen, mum?'

'I can't…not even now…I'm sorry'

'When we were little, and had a nightmare, you used to say that talking about it would make it go away. Maybe it would help you face your demons.'

Hermione bowed her head. Her fifteen year old daughter was trying to act like a parent. She had earned the right to know, so Hermione spoke.

She told her everything; the capture, dad and Uncle Harry in the dungeons being forced to hear her screams as Bellatrix had used the cruciatus curse on her. She told Rose about the rescue, and Uncle Bill's house, and Dobbie.

She had to know everything, to understand, so Hermione went on speaking of their time at Hogwarts, and their feuds with Draco Malfoy. How Draco hated her because she was muggle born, how Ron had attacked him when he called Hermione a mudblood, how she had attacked him when he sneered at Buckbeak's death sentence.

'That's why it's so difficult, you see. There's just so much history, it's hard. I've never told anyone, not even gran and granddad. Your dad and I have never discussed it. It's something we just buried in the past.'

'But it isn't just in your past, is it?' Rose's voice sounded as if she had given up all hope. 'That's why you didn't want him to come here and that's my future. His dad hated you because of who you were, so you hate Scorpius because of who he is. Are you going to force me to choose between you and him?'

'Oh Rose, it isn't like that. I don't expect you to understand...'

'Because I'm only little, right? Can you leave please, mum? I need some time on my own.'

Hermione walked slowly across the room. When she got to the door she turned, as if to speak, then changed her mind and left.

Going to her room, she lay down on the bed, emotionally drained by what had happened. Downstairs, Ron was on the sofa, still staring blankly ahead. It was not telepathy, but they both had the same thought. They had committed the cardinal sin of parents; they had put themselves before their children.

-o0o-

Hermione woke from a deep sleep that had left her unrefreshed. It was gloomy outside, yet she wasn't sure if it was dusk or dawn. Not until she checked the clock did she discover she had slept for nearly 20 hours. Christmas Day was over.

She got up and automatically went to check on Rose. The room was empty but something was wrong, not everything was in its place. A quick check revealed the worst.

'Ron, wake up. Wake up.' He had fallen asleep on the sofa, and not gone to bed at all.

'Wha..wha…?'

'Rose…she's run away from home.'

Ron got himself upright.

'Run away? Maybe she's in the garden, or gone for a walk.'

'No, she's taken things, and money and her bank book. She's gone.'

They began the process of contacting the family, but nobody had seen her. Molly announced she was returning to The Burrow, in case Rose turned up there. George put the word out amongst the shopkeepers of Diagon Alley, and checked the Leaky Cauldron. He got his manager to do the same in Hogsmeade, and ask at both the Hog's Head and Three Broomsticks. The school was contacted. They all drew a blank.

Hermione called the Ministry, and asked the duty officer to send her any reports of underage magic use. That would give them at least a rough location, as long as Rose wasn't deliberately trying to avoid the trace.

'What about friends? She might have gone to one of them to talk things over.'

'I've only ever heard her mention one, Ron.' Hermione looked at him. 'God, we're stupid. I'm going to Malfoy Manor. No, you stay here. Let me know if anything comes through.' She picked up her phone and wand, and apparated straight out of the house.

A light mist hung around the gates, giving everything a flat, dull visage. Hermione shivered, and not just from the cold, as she pressed the bell. A woman's voice answered, surprisingly quickly.

'Mrs Malfoy? My name's Weasley, Hermione Weasley. I'm Rose's mother. Have you seen her?'

'Come up to the house, I'll meet you.' The gates swung open.

She had never seen the outside before. It was old and gloomy, with a shabby, unkempt air. Everything in the grounds was damp and grey. A woman stood before the door. She was short, and rather dumpy, and her face showed concern.

'You're Hermione Granger, of course. I remember you.'

'Have you seen my daughter?'

'I assume she's with my son. Come in. My husband's in the day room, we'll go through to the kitchen.'

Over a mug of tea, they each told their story. Astoria Malfoy had discovered Scorpius gone when she went to call him for breakfast. Yes, there had been a scene the day before. He and Draco had argued over Rose when Scorpius had asked if she could come and stay.

'Draco…well, I know you didn't get on at school. There's no point pretending, he said …he didn't want his only son throwing himself away on the daughter of a …couple of jumped-up nobodies who'd only got on because they were Harry Potter's friends.'

Hermione laughed mirthlessly. 'He's not changed then.'

'He has Hermione – can I call you that? Mrs Weasley seems so silly. All that rubbish he believed in at school, and his parents fed him, has gone. I think if it was anyone else, it would have been different. You all carry so much history with you.'

Hermione couldn't argue. Had she and Ron been any better?

'Do you know where they might have gone?' Astoria asked. 'I can't think of anywhere, and he hasn't taken any money, as far as I know. He certainly hasn't got any muggle money; they'll have to stay in our world.'

'Rose has, she's taken her bank book. It's only got a few hundred pounds in it, maybe sixty galleons or so. I've got the ministry on alert, if they try to use their wands, the trace should tell us roughly where they are.'

The two women stayed in the kitchen, drinking tea and having desultory conversations. Although both had been at Hogwarts, Astoria two years below Hermione, they had little in common. Hermione occasionally called Ron, but there was no news. Draco did not disturb them.

Ron called at four o'clock, as dusk was falling. The Ministry had picked up underage activity within a mile of the Malfoy house. They could do no better. Ron wanted to send down an auror team to help with the search, but Hermione decided against it. Astoria left the kitchen briefly to inform her husband, and returned with two travelling cloaks. 'It will be cold when it gets dark.' Hermione had left hers behind in the rush.

'Any ideas where they could be hiding out?' asked Hermione.

'There are plenty of barns and sheds around. We'll start in the grounds and work out.'

It was almost nine o'clock when the two women approached a small stone-built barn tucked in the corner of a field. It was a still, clear night, and a thick frost was already forming on the ground, turning it as hard as iron. Their wands told them that somebody was inside. Each muttering 'Lumos', they opened the door.

They had broken open some hay bales and made a sort of nest in a corner. Rose had backed in to Scorpius and was wrapped in his arms. They were fast asleep. As the gentle light from the wands penetrated their eyes they awoke.

'Mum?'

'Oh, Rose.'

-o0o-

They went back to the Malfoy house, taking the children to the kitchen where they were given mugs of hot milk and plates of bread and jam. Little was said. Both mothers were too relived at having their children safe to start the trial – just yet. Ron had been contacted, and was travelling down. Astoria nodded Hermione out of the room.

'I think it will be better if we four speak first, before our husbands get to see them, don't you agree? I'll take you through to Draco and wait for your husband.'

Hermione swallowed hard as Astoria moved towards the "day room". She knew it as the drawing room, the room she had been tortured in. Astoria stopped, and looked back. Hermione walked through the doorway. She recognised nothing.

The heavy wooden panelling had gone along with the chandelier, to be replaced by plain white walls decorated with abstracts in bold earth colours. The floor was polished blonde pine with rugs which picked up the hues of the pictures. The only furniture was several cream leather sofas. It was a calm, elegant room that had been exquisitely designed.

A man's voice came from behind her. 'I had to have it changed. I couldn't come in here. Too many memories. Drink?'

She turned to face Draco Malfoy as he carried a glass of wine towards her. Obviously he was older, and his hair had receded, but his eyes were still the same pale grey she remembered. What had changed most was not the features of his face, but the expression. He looked a calmer, wiser – humbler – man. Gone was the smirk and sneer she knew so well. She took the glass from his hand, but paused before drinking.

'I haven't poisoned it.' His voice was low, almost soft. 'I would imagine having a Senior Undersecretary die in your house would generate an intolerable amount of paperwork.' He raised his glass to her and tasted. 'Please, be seated. The children are safe?'

'Yes, cold and tired, but safe. They didn't go very far. I think it was a statement more than anything.'

They heard footsteps approaching, and Astoria and Ron came in to the room.

'Weasley.'

'Malfoy. Where's my…'

'Ron. Sit down. Now. Rose is in the kitchen having something to eat. They aren't the problem. What are we going to do?'

It was Malfoy who broke the long silence, looking at his hands rather than anyone else.

'My father died shortly after the war. They said he was a "broken man", but it was the fact he couldn't accept things had changed that killed him. My mother is still alive – well existing. She never leaves her room, Astoria cares for her. Mother confuses me with my father, and it upsets her when she realises her mistake.' He looked at Ron. 'You lost your brother, of course, and now we are in danger of losing our children. It continues to another generation.'

He looked around at the walls. 'This room was an attempt to change things, to wipe the slate clean. Instead, it just serves to remind me that there is a past to be hidden. That is why I spend a lot of time in here; it's atonement, of sorts.

I allowed the past to affect my son, I'm sure you were the same with your daughter. That is why she came here, to him. They should not have to continue paying for our mistakes.' He paused. 'Your daughter will be welcome in my house.'

Hermione elbowed Ron, and gave him a "You" look. He chewed on his knuckle for a moment, thinking.

'Perhaps you're right, Mal…' he took a breath 'Draco. I doubt we'll ever be friends,' Malfoy inclined his head in agreement 'but this isn't about us. My daughter and your son couldn't choose who their parents were, anymore than we could.' Malfoy looked at Hermione, then lowered his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. 'So, for their sake, I will judge him as a boyfriend, not your son, and…he will be welcome in our house.'

Hermione stood. 'I think we should get her back, it's late.' She turned to Astoria. 'She asked if Scorpius could visit, so they could finish their homework together. Perhaps after New Year? We'll take him to King's Cross if you want.'

'Yes, I think that should be OK.' She looked at her husband, who nodded. 'I'll owl you to make arrangements.'

-o0o-

Ron gave Rose a bowl of soup and a loaf, which she toyed with, then went off to run her a bath. Once he was out of the room she wolfed it down very inelegantly, cramming bread in to her mouth. She was still starving. Hermione started phoning round with the good news. Her mother decided that they could collect Hugo in the morning; it was late and he was in bed. If he was awake, she would pass on the news to him.

'And what comes next?'

'I think some bridges need rebuilding.'

'Yes, they do, but at least you've got the intelligence to realise it, dear. You hurt them, you know. They may forgive you, but they'll never forget.'

Ron came in to the room as she hung up.

'Hermione…if her…friend is coming to stay, perhaps you should have a chat with her. Set…agree some ground rules.'

'Why me?'

'She's a girl, you're a woman.'

'So you'll do Hugo? When the time comes.'

'You're his mother.'

'Coward!' She took his hands, her smile fading. 'We ruined their Christmas, and let them see a side of us they shouldn't have had to see. Mum says they might never forgive us.'

'I know.' He took her in to a hug. 'I think we should sit down with them tomorrow, and apologise. See what we can do to start making good the damage.'

They stood for a while, drawing strength from each other and preparing themselves for the task ahead.

'Who'd have kids, eh?'

'Who'd have parents?' came a voice from outside the door.


	17. The new Minister

Wounds heal in time, though scars often remain.

Hugo was the worst affected, emotionally going backwards for a while. They had to be very careful about arguing in front of him, even their usual bickering was enough to make him run from the room. It's hard to discover your parents are not perfect.

For Rose, it was different. She had crossed that invisible boundary, and was no longer a considered a child. They didn't tell her to eat up her greens or that it was time for bed any more. On the other hand, she was now thought capable of organising herself, so nobody checked what she needed for school with the result she spent the first two weeks of term scrounging parchment off people and wondering why she never had quite enough knickers.

The story had got out in to the school, aided and abetted by her cousins, and Rose found herself hero worshipped by the other girls for a while. They imagined themselves running off in the night to fall in to the arms of their lover, then going to live together in a garret, dying tragically in each other's arms of consumption whilst everybody wept.

Rose couldn't admit that running away mainly involved being cold, hungry and a little bit frightened, whilst hoping desperately that your mum would come to find you and take you home.

Scorpius had a much easier time of it; most boy's questions being limited to 'So, did you get any then?' He found the best response was to say nothing, but let people see you smile wistfully as you turned away. "Technically", it wasn't lying, as "technically" he hadn't said anything.

Actually, a lot of people wondered what had happened. Professor McGonagall, now incredibly ancient and in her last year before retirement, spoke privately to Rose to assure her that the school would be supportive and make available any facilities required – if needed. It took Rose a while to figure out what on Earth she was talking about.

The Ministry employees also enjoyed a good schadenfreude as well. Ron got off quite lightly, being seen as the "poor old dad" battling with his rebellious daughter – who was probably on drugs and certainly no better than she should be.

It's very unfair, but the way of the world, that Hermione bore the brunt of it. The kindest view was that if only she'd spent as much time on her family as she had on her career it wouldn't have happened in the first place. 'Children need their mothers at home. I've said it for years'. A few, though, took the attitude "not that I'm prejudiced, of course" that she _was_ muggle born, after all, and they were probably all like that.

After a few weeks, it all got a bit boring for everybody, and the gossips started hunting around for their next victims. This time, they got it in aces. Kingsley Shacklebolt announced he would be standing down at Christmas. A new Minister for Magic would be needed.

At once, the office bookmakers got to work. Harry Potter was immediately installed as favourite at 2-1 on, with Hermione Granger a short head behind at 13-7 on, 5-1 any other Senior Undersecretary, 100-1 bar. The wags started offering odds of 2,000-1 for Dolores Umbridge, on the basis that her life sentence in Azkaban might make if difficult for her to get to work in the mornings.

-o0o-

The first dinner the four friends had together after the announcement was made had a certain frisson to it. Hermione found herself transported right back to sixth year potions lessons. She started to have rather spiteful thoughts about Harry. At his age he should certainly be doing something with his hair, and he was only a "plod", after all. The Ministry needed a bit of intelligence at the helm; it wasn't all about fighting Death Eaters any more. Then she realised what she was doing, and felt rather ashamed of herself. Harry was her oldest and dearest friend, he deserved the job. Didn't he? There was still a little voice in her head saying 'Of course not. You're the brainy one.'

Ron was also struggling. Wife or best friend? Secretly, he wanted it to be…Harry. They, Ron thought, were getting to that stage in life where the hard work should be behind them. They'd spent the best part of twenty years building a home, career and family. The children would be off their hands soon, and he wanted his wife back. Not a mother, or a senior Ministry official, but his Hermione. His thoughts drifted back to that first flat in Hogsmeade. Yes, it had been small, and a bit tatty, but they'd had fun there. They were their own bosses for the first time and could come and go as they pleased. When was the last time he'd seen the beaded bag? They used to just load it up and head off on his broom. They hadn't done that for years. If she became the Minister, they never would again.

Ginny looked from Ron to Hermione then turned to Harry. 'Go on; put them out of their misery!'

Both looked at him. He considered his words carefully.

'May I be the first to congratulate you, Minister.' Hermione gawped at him.

'What do you mean? Nothing's been announced yet. You're the obvious candidate, Harry.'

'I'm not so sure, Hermione. Yes, I'm still The Harry Potter, but time's moved on. You know, there are some kids who, when Binns starts telling them about the war, say "Harry Potter? Is that Ginny Potter's husband?"' They all laughed. 'Actually, I love it. It's nice to be famous because of somebody else, for a change!'

He paused, taking a sip of wine before continuing. 'The world has moved on, thankfully. With the danger largely gone, being Head Auror isn't the automatic qualification it used to be. It's brains that's needed now.'

'Harry, you've got brains enough, you know it.'

'I know, but not as much as you. Anyway, I know I won't get the job, because I don't want it. _If_ it's offered to me, I'll turn it down. You've got a clear run. So, like I said, congratulations, Minister.' He raised his glass, so did Ginny, with a huge smile on her face.

'But why?'

'Because I'm just Harry. That's all I ever wanted to be. Ordinary Harry with a wife, and a family.' He squeezed Ginny's hand. 'I don't mind the job I've got now, because it's what I want to do, and I'm good at it, but the next step up? No. I couldn't handle it – the politics, the figurehead, I've been that already. And the thought of all those receptions and speeches, having to smile for the camera every day. It's not for me.'

That was true. If there was one thing that had caused friction in his marriage, it was that he and his wife were diametrically opposed when it came to their social lives. She was a party animal, whereas he was…boring. It had caused rows, years ago, and nobody knew just how close they had come to splitting up over it. Fortunately, the love they had for each other had allowed them to see what was happening and they came to a compromise. He would attend enough things, maybe one or two a week, to keep the public happy. She could go to the rest on her own if she wanted, and plead work problems for him.

'Anyway, being Minister would interfere with my Grand Plan.' He smiled at them, rather smugly.

'What "Grand Plan"? We don't believe you.' said Ron.

Harry laughed. 'Oh, it exists, believe me. You know the DADA teacher at Hogwarts? Rowbotham?' They nodded cautiously. 'I was speaking to him a while back. He's retiring in five years time, the year Lily and Hugo leave.' He paused dramatically. 'I'm going to apply for his job!'

Ron sprayed wine across the table, and started choking. Hermione had to slap him on the back a few times.

'Are you mad? Head Auror to teacher? At your age? It's a retirement post.'

'So I'm retiring early. It's what I want to do. Then, eventually, I want to be headmaster. I'll wait.'

Hermione was positively goggling. 'But…but what about Ginny, and the house?'

Ginny smiled at her. 'I'm going with him; we'll turn the house over to the kids. Look, Hermione, I'm a media darling, but I'm also a woman. I know it's wrong and wicked and anything else you want to call it, but face facts - I've got a shelf-life. One day, somebody younger and prettier than me will come along.'

'But you're a good writer. The best.' Ron sounded outraged.

'I know, and I'm writing about Quidditch. I feel a bigger challenge coming on. I'm going to use my writing skills to produce a definitive history of the war. I don't mean some Rita Skeeter abomination, but a proper academic study. Something Binns can use in a hundred years time when we're all worm food. After all, who's better placed? My husband, brother and sister-in-law were at the heart of it. Unlimited access for interviews! Don't worry, Ron, I'll leave out all the bits where you were a prat. Oh, hang on, that would make it an essay, not a book!' She smirked at him.

Hermione looked at Harry, trying to smile, but with her eyes rapidly filling. 'You're going home, aren't you?'

He winked at her. 'I said you were the one with the brains.'

-o0o-

They were sworn to secrecy, of course, but Harry knew the story would break eventually. The Minister's position was not elected, nor was there a formal interview process. In many respects it was handed down, only the incumbent could announce the successor. Obviously, the procedure was ducked on occasions. Pius Thicknesse had not been involved in the choice of Kingsley Shacklebolt, for example. Kingsley had been appointed to a temporary post by those members of the Wizangemot who were considered untainted, then confirmed by the same body when proven suitable.

Shacklebolt would consult widely on the issue; Professor McGonagall would be asked, for example, along with many others. Then, after a period of consideration, the Minister would have "a quiet word", normally over dinner, before making an announcement to the press.

Anyway, the Weasleys had far more important things to worry about before all that happened. Rose was bringing "Scorp" home for Easter. They had a lot of work to do in preparation for year end exams, the last before OWLS.

Hermione was in a fine old state. The last visit had just been a couple of days; this one would be two weeks, his parents would be away. There was another slight difference, as well. Now, Rose and Scorpius were definitely an "item".

The row at Christmas had actually been a fuss over nothing. Despite what he had written in her book, in reality they had been just friends. Very close friends its true, and their feelings probably would have come out eventually, but it was the reaction of their parents which had forced the issue.

Ron spent several weekends redecorating the guest room, although it didn't need doing. Nor did it necessarily require a new carpet, but it got one, along with a wardrobe, chest of drawers and a desk. Ron drew the line at trying to fit in an en-suite shower. The whole house was cleaned from top to bottom, and Hermione was actually found poring over recipe books.

'What are you doing, love? I'll cook.'

'No you will not. He's a guest. I'll cook; I want to set a good example.'

'Hermione, stop with the "domestic goddess" routine, it'll end in tears. You be the host, I'll do the cooking. When was the last time I burned anything?' That was true, he had got better.

'Maybe we should organise some day trips, or activities, for them?'

'Yes, we could take them to the park; I'm sure they'll enjoy playing on the swings. They're here to work, Hermione, not be entertained. Just let them get on with it.'

'What if they want to be on their own, Ron?'

'Well, they'll need piece and quiet to study…oh, I see what you mean. Umm. Well, I suppose…they're not children…what do you think? They're not likely to…well, you know…not yet…are they? If he is…or has, I'll kill him. That's it, he's not coming. Perhaps we could try getting her in to Beaubaxtons. I'll contact Fleur.'

'No, Ron. They haven't.' Hermione started to play with a small hole in the leg of her jeans. 'I…had a chat with her. Nothing happened whilst they were together. I did say that…once she was of age…if they decided that …well…that was what they wanted…could she tip me the wink. You know, like your mum did with us - me.' She giggled. 'Made me feel quite old, actually, like I was handing on a baton or something. I suppose we should at least let them go for walks on their own.'

It turned out that they weren't the problem; Hugo was. He'd appointed himself some kind of "Guardian of Honour". The first night Hermione found him in a sleeping bag outside Rose's door, with his wand in his hand. He was told to get back in his room immediately, and it was lucky Rose hadn't seen him. She'd have hexed him to hell and back. He also got in to this rather annoying habit of bursting in to rooms unannounced. The only people he caught were his mum and dad, who were fooling around in the scullery. Ron had seen Hermione bend over to get the washing out of the machine, and it had turned in to a bit of a wrestling match. Everyone was very glad when he was invited to stay with a friend.

Scorpius turned out to be an ideal house guest and boyfriend – if you were a parent. He was quiet, polite, ate anything and appeared to be no threat to your daughter's virginity. The two worked quietly together all day, and then sat decorously two feet apart on the sofa each evening. They were encouraged to get out of the house at least once a day for some exercise and fresh air, and Hermione saw them coming back one time, holding hands. They let go before coming through the garden gate. She had to smile.

He settled in so well that Hermione forgot who he was. This caused great embarrassment one breakfast time when she announced she was taking Rose shopping.

'We need to get some new bras for her, she filling out a bit.' Scorpius snorted, and some milk dribbled out of his nose.

'Muuuuum!'

-o0o-

Kingsley Shacklebolt sidled in to her office, looking slightly nervous.

'Hermione, how are you?'

'Fine. Nice to see you.'

'How's Ron?'

'Fine.'

'The children? They must be growing up now.'

'They're fine too. We're all fine.'

'Good. Good.' He picked up a photograph on her desk. It was of the four of them, taken on holiday one year. 'Nice picture. Lovely family. You're very lucky.' He started walking around, looking at things.

'Did you want anything in particular, Kingsley? Only, the children go back to school in September, and I'd like to be there to see them off.'

'How would you like to have dinner with me one evening?'

She tried to keep a straight face. 'Oh, Kingsley! Are you inviting me on a date? I'm a married woman!'

'What? No. Nothing like that, I assure…' He saw her smiling. 'Very good. I should have realised, of course you'd know what it's about. I'd be grateful if you didn't mention it to Harry.'

'Sit down, Kingsley. We should have a think about this. I need to breech a confidence with you.'

It was an awkward situation, but an indication of the sort of decisions she would need to make as Minister. If she were appointed Minister, the press would have a field day over the future of "The Chosen One" and why he had been passed over. Was the selection process actually some kind of "politically correct" exercise, and the best candidate not chosen? Could Harry stay at the Ministry under those circumstances? On the other hand, if she were seen as the second choice, Harry having refused the job, it would not get her off to a good start.

One way or another, the announcement would need to be carefully handled. Harry was called in to help. They sat there chewing on quills and pencils for a while. It was rather like a difficult exam question. Harry finally came up with the answer.

'Got it! Rita Skeeter!'

'What?'

'It's simple. I give her an interview, she's always wanted one, and she still carries some clout. Of course, it will all be "off the record". The "succession" will come up, naturally. I suggest that I would love the job, but don't think I'll get it. There is "a rival" – no, wrong word – candidate? who is far more suitable. I can tell her that, in my opinion, any future Minister needs to be a Law Maker, not Enforcer, and somebody who can bridge the entire magical community. I could even suggest that I don't have the necessary skills.'

Kingsley nodded. 'Worth a try, I think it's the best shot we've got.'

Give Rita credit, it was a masterful example of the journalist's craft, full of "sources close to the Minister" and "insiders suggest" and "those close to the candidates themselves have indicated". Of course, the inevitable conclusion was that there was only one person the job could go to, and anyone who thought differently must be mad.

There was no need to wait any longer. Kingsley called a press conference, and Mrs. Hermione Jane Weasley was formally introduced as the new Minister for Magic, taking up her appointment on January 1st. It was something she would have to get used to, but the flashlights meant she couldn't see properly for nearly ten minutes.


	18. Work life imbalance

It is true to say that Hermione's feet didn't touch the ground for the next couple of weeks. Every journalist in the country, and beyond, wanted an interview. Kingsley advised that she delay this for a while so that she could get her thoughts in order and spend some time practising with the Media department, one wrong word at this stage could come back to haunt her. It was decided that October and November would be ideal for interviews, as by then she would have handed over a lot of her duties to her replacement and be shadowing Kingsley.

Of course, she had to find her own replacement at Law Enforcement, so another round of consultations was undertaken. In the end, it was James Corner, a cousin of her fellow head pupil Michael who best fit the bill. His handover period would run until the end of September.

Then there were all the security issues to be considered. She hadn't allowed for that. Harry turned up at the house with two Intelligence aurors to check the security and wards around the house, they might need upgrading. One of the aurors was Leanne, Ron's little fantasy from a few years back. Hermione offered them lunch, waspishly saying that Ron could send out for pizza. He had the good grace to look embarrassed.

Even going on holiday got the Ministry involved. 

'Where are you going?' Harry asked her one day.

'France, we like it out there.'

'Ok, we'll make the arrangements.'

'What arrangements? It's already booked.'

'It's just that we have to inform the French authorities you'll be in their country, that's all. We need to know travel dates and the address.'

'You mean I'll be getting post when I'm on holiday?'

'Not this year, probably, but we need to ask the auror office out there to check it over.' He looked a little sheepish. 'They'll probably assign a couple of people to you. It's OK, they won't actually stay with you, just…close by.' He was suddenly struck by a thought. 'Rose isn't taking Scorpius, is she? That might prove awkward, with his background. I'm sorry.' Fortunately Rose wasn't, but it brought home to Hermione that her life had changed forever.

A week later, she had a letter from the French Minister for Magic, asking if she would care to meet with him whilst in his country. She could travel to Paris a day early and then be escorted on to her destination to meet up with her family.

Molly was ecstatic, and had arranged a huge celebration party for her at The Burrow. Ginny and Fleur actually did most of the work, as Molly was now too old to do much herself. Hermione loved the gesture, though she did have to point out that Molly didn't actually have to call her Minister all the time. The whole family seemed to be at it. George insisted on curtseying every time she looked at him and Percy kept trying to discuss work. It turned in to a double celebration, as Victoire and Teddy had just announced their engagement. It was a lovely day, though rather poignantly it turned out to be the last time the whole family gathered there. Molly died that autumn after a short illness.

The holiday came at just the right time. They all needed a few weeks to relax together as a family. Everyone realised it might be the last 'proper' one they would have. Any trip abroad in future would automatically have an element of work involved, and she would need to be in daily contact with the Ministry "just in case". Her meeting with the French Minister had been a success. Hermione liked him from the start. He was like a rather jovial uncle, much older than her, and utterly charming. As the French do he spent a considerable amount of time flirting outrageously, but the food was delicious.

As the end of August approached, the children started getting ready to go back to school. For Rose, it was OWL year, and Hugo was starting his options. Everything was going to plan when another bombshell was dropped. It was Harry who had to break the bad news again.

'The children won't be travelling on the train. We'll take them up there.'

'Harry, I'm going to be Minister. That means I out-rank you. Shouldn't you be asking me, not telling?'

'No, _Minister_' he laughed. 'Protocols, you see. As Senior Undersecretary in Law Enforcement, I have ultimate responsibility for your safety. That means if I believe Ministry security could be compromised, I can tell you what to do and you have to do it. Makes a change after all these years!' he finished, with a smirk. Hermione was very tempted to punch him.

-o0o-

November and December saw her shadowing Kingsley on a daily basis. She would have liked to have taken some time off to be with Ron, who had taken his mother's death very hard, but work wouldn't allow for it. Perhaps, she thought on occasions, Harry had made the right decision after all. 

Even very important people have to get up and go to work every day, and what surprised her most was that the Minister didn't sit there all day long telling people what to do. If anything, it was the other way round.

Mornings started with a meeting with the Diary Secretary. She was a rather sweet old thing called Gladys, who insisted on calling Hermione "dearie", and always brought in cups of tea and some biscuits. They would spend about half-an-hour going through the day's appointments and filling in future things they needed to attend. Often, it could be awkward; who took priority? The Society of British Herbologists (membership 25) wanted him to make a speech on the same day that the Campaign for Flying Carpets (membership: 10) were having their Annual Conference. This was where Gladys came in to her own.

'Just pencil in a Department Review meeting that day. Then you can turn them both down. Have another biscuit.' It was like working with your mum.

Then came lots of meeting, which fell in to two distinct groups. Useless or pointless. Most pointless were the Heads of Department meetings, where everybody sat around not listening to what all the other Heads were doing and wishing they could get on with some real work. Hermione decided it would be one of the first to go.

The Press interviews had started. The questions ran the usual gamut:

Are you proud of being the first woman Minister? (I'm not, check your facts.)

Are you proud of being the first muggle Minister? (I want to be judged on what I do, not who I am.)

Is your daughter still out of control? (Mind your own business.)

Do you object to her seeing the son of a Death Eater? (See above.)

What are your plans for the Ministry?

That was better, a real question. Most of all, Hermione wanted to drag the Ministry out of the 18th century. There really was no need to send memos flying around the corridors. She wanted to bring in "modern" (after all, it was 2020) technology such as computers and E-mail. She knew there would be resistance to change, but it had to come. 

Just before Christmas, Kingsley took her to meet the Muggle Prime Minister. She took an instant dislike to him, and was glad they would only have to meet on rare occasions. He had something of a reputation as a "lady's man", though she couldn't see why. He also flirted with her, but actually meant it. He even tried inviting her to dinner.

'Wonderful, Prime Minister. I'll bring my husband; you can bring your…_wife_.' That shut him up.

Although Kingsley officially retired on the 31st of December, Christmas Eve would be his last day "in harness". He sat with her for a couple of hours that day, handing over the various seals and keys of office that she would need. Then all the Senior Undersecretaries gathered in his office to give him his leaving present and say goodbye. That was it, time to go. He would spend a couple of hours walking around saying goodbye to everyone else, but she was now in charge.

Kingsley shook her hand. 'I made the right choice, you know. There was never any doubt in my mind you were the best for the job.'

It was exactly what she needed to hear, so she gave him a hug. 'I'll give you a call the minute I get stuck. Probably be the first day back!'

She sat in her chair, running her hands along the edge of her desk. Her desk, the Minister's desk. She had never dreamed of this all those years ago when she first boarded the train.

They had a much better Christmas that year. It was just the five of them again, though Harry and Ginny and the family came over on Boxing Day, James bring his girlfriend with him. Scorpius came over as well. Harry had never actually met him before, though he knew all about the relationship of course. It took him a while to forget the surname and look at the person, just like it had Ron and Hermione.

Rose and James, along with their "partners" formed a little sub-group of their own, earnestly discussing things and putting the world to rights, as teenagers will. Hugo and Al spent most of the day in his room playing computer games. Poor Lily got left behind, so gravitated towards Jean Granger as an adopted granny. Jean loved it, and told Lily all about the muggle world when she was little.

-o0o-

Ron sat at home, bored. It was approaching nine o'clock and evening was drawing in. Hermione still wasn't home. She'd been in the job for eighteen months now, and was well in to her plan to get the Ministry computerised. Of course, it wasn't easy. Money was tight, and she's had to go through endless Appropriations Committees to even get the budget to start the study. That had taken a year.

He knew where she was now. It was the sub-committee she'd set up. The problem with being wizards, so therefore not existing to most people, was that they couldn't just go out and get quotes like anyone else. It all had to be done through various front organisations. Gringotts had proved useful in that respect as they had a lot of experience in bridging the two worlds. The study was deciding what computers they would need and how to install them, and when training would start. Then another round of meetings would start to get the money to pay for it all.

Hermione not getting home until late was actually pretty typical. Most days she was out of the house at least twelve hours, sometimes more. Often, after a days work, there would be an evening function to attend. Sometimes he went with her, more often not. Even when she did get home there was normally a case full of reports or documents to read and sign. She rarely got to bed before midnight.

Life in the auror world was fairly slow at the moment. He still had his team of "Achievers", and they were as good a bunch as he'd ever had, but there wasn't much to do. They still trained, of course, but that had its limits. Although he was on call, most nights he could leave bang on five to go home. 

He ran the house virtually single handed, doing all the cooking and cleaning and making sure Rose and Hugo got their weekly letter. It was getting harder and harder to make up something for the "mum says" bit.

Rose was now coming up to the end of her sixth year. She got her eleven OWLS of course, being slightly disappointed that she only matched her mum and got ten "O"s - Arithmancy had let her down - and Scorpius had got a perfect set. She already had her career mapped out. She and Scorpius would continue their studies, at Hogwarts or somewhere else, in Potions and Herbology. Then they were going in to business. He would inherit Malfoy Manor eventually and they would use that as the herbarium and become potioneers. It was a steady career, and though it would never make them rich, they thought they would be happy with it. If it didn't work out, there was always teaching or healing to fall back on.

Hugo would be starting his OWL year in September; he was more problematic. He was bright enough, but completely unfocused. His career aspirations appeared to consist of shrugging and saying 'Dunno.' Ron had suggested a fairly broad sweep of options so that he should be able to do something with them. Hugo said 'OK' and picked them.

The thing he'd imagined happening had happened. Hermione was totally involved in her job, and he'd been - not quite cast aside – but left to his own devices. Her hand on the clock moved to "travelling" and Ron went in to the kitchen. He always had a meal ready for her when she came home. It was normally something simple, tonight was a tuna salad. She sat down to eat, looking tired and grateful for the glass of wine he poured her. Meals were the one time she stopped working, so it was his only real chance to talk to her.

'How do you fancy doing something this weekend? I'm not on call, we could go somewhere.'

'It's the Witch Weekly Awards and I'm presenting the prizes.'

'Do I have to go?'

'Not if you don't want to.' She smiled sadly at him and put down her glass. 'I'm sorry, Ron. We will get away over the summer, and spend some time together. It's just that I want to get things started, and I'm still new enough that everybody wants a part of me. It will quieten down. Honestly.'

He nodded and tried to smile 'Yeah, I know. Have you got to get through all that tonight?' He was looking at the bulging case she'd brought home with her.

''Fraid so.'

'I'll leave you in peace; don't stay up too late.'

She watched his back as he walked from the room. 'I'll make it up to him, Lavender. I promise.'

The holiday went as well as could be expected. Rose had dropped really subtle hints ('He can come with us, can't he? I've already said it would be OK.') that perhaps Scorpius could be invited to join them. Hermione had run her hands through her hair – which was now much shorter on the advice of an "Image Consultant" – and gone to check with Harry.

'France again? I'll contact my opposite number and get back to you.' He never told her the machinations needed, and the favours he'd had to call in to enable him to say to her 'Yep, no problems' a couple of weeks later.

They stayed in a gîte, and nearly had a wonderful time. Hermione managed to restrict work to just a couple of hours in the morning, but had to go back to London during the second week when an unfortunate story about a Junior Undersecretary and his row with a Bookmaker almost made the muggle press. By the time the Obliviators had finished, it looked like a gas explosion, and the man wasn't that seriously hurt. The Undersecretary cooled his heels in Azkaban for a few months, and then found alternative employment.

It was sorted until Thursday evening, and they were coming home Saturday, so it wasn't worth going back. Ron put the phone down, and then wandered off in to the garden. Rose came to join him and put her arm around him.

'Poor dad.' They stood in silence for a while. 'She'd give it up if you asked her to.'

He put his arm around her shoulder. 'I couldn't do that, this is her destiny. It's what she's worked for all these years. It won't be forever, anyway. Things will slow down eventually.'

'And you believe that, do you?'

He looked at her. His little girl was growing in to a fine and beautiful woman. 'Sympathy?'

'I know what it's like to not be with the person you care about most in the whole world.'

There was nothing he could say to that, so they walked back to the house arm in arm.


	19. Questions and Exams

Christmas Eve found Ron and Scorpius in the living room, having a glass of fire whiskey together. Hugo was in his room, probably on the computer, whilst Hermione, her mum and Rose were in the kitchen trying to ice a cake. Ron had decided that as Scorpius was now in his 7th year, and of age, there was no reason why they shouldn't have a drink together.

The conversation had been on fairly routine things; school, final exams and so on, but it had been hard work. Scorpius obviously had something on his mind. In the end, he asked it.

'When you were at school with my father, did you actually hate him?'

Ron thought long and hard. He wasn't being asked the question that Scorpius had spoken, there was something else behind it, but he couldn't figure out what. 

'You've asked, so I'll answer. Yes, I did. It was mutual.'

'And that was the reason you didn't want me seeing Rose.' It was a statement, not a question. 'Yet now I'm sitting here drinking your whiskey. What changed?'

'Well…I did…we did. We'd been taught a lesson by our children. I told your father that night that I would judge you as my daughter's boyfriend, not his son.'

'Thank you for telling me that.'

-o0o-

The remains of Christmas dinner littered the table, and everyone sat back well pleased, they had certainly done it justice. They were at that stage where attempting to move didn't seem a particularly good idea. The silence was becoming slightly soporific when Scorpius cleared his throat.

'Mr Weasley, Mrs Weasley. There is something I want to say.' Ron and Hermione smiled at each other. It wasn't often they got complimented on a meal.

'I'd like to ask permission to marry your daughter.' Hugo broke a plate as he dropped his glass on it.

Hermione was sat with her hands over her mouth staring at Rose. Ron was rubbing the back of his neck, looking at the wall. Hugo was just staring blankly with his mouth hanging open and his hand frozen in mid-air. Jean Granger was pretending she wasn't there. Rose and Scorpius were holding hands and looking at each other, a fathomless look on their faces.

Ron broke the silence after about thirty seconds. 'Umm' he said. He had to say it a few more times. He was so shocked he'd actually forgotten how to speak English. Eventually it came back to him.

'Well, I didn't see that one coming. Hermione?'

'She's your daughter.' Hermione couldn't keep her eyes still. They kept darting around, trying not to look at anything. 'Hugo, go to your room.'

'No, let him stay.' Ron said. 'It's OK. It's OK, I've got this one.' He looked at the pair, his daughter and her…what was he now? He took a few deep breaths.

'Firstly, Scorpius, I would like to thank you for asking my permission. A dad is supposed to say "Are your intentions…", but you've made yours very clear, and I appreciate that.' He thought a bit more.

'Many years ago, Uncle Harry proposed to my sister on the platform at King's Cross the day she finished at Hogwarts. That evening, they went to see my parents.' He looked at Rose. 'I'm going to say now what Grandad said then. You're both of age, I can't stop you, and I won't refuse permission. But, I would prefer it if you waited and asked me again at a later date.'

He could see Hermione relax a little, there would be no scene. He refilled his glass and took a drink.

'I don't want you to think this is because I consider you unsuitable, Scorpius, or too young to know what you are doing. It's not that. However, I do think it's too soon to consider marrying. Far too soon, and if you have no intention of marrying yet, there is no need to ask the question.

You have a lot in front of you at the moment; exams, then jobs. We had a lucky start, it was only the flat over the shop, but at least we had somewhere to live. It still wasn't easy though. You wouldn't believe some of the things I cooked at the end of the month, when we didn't have two sickles to rub together.'

'You wouldn't believe some of the things he cooked at the start of the month' broke in Hermione. She thought a little humour might help things along. It did, everybody laughed and relaxed a little.

'Have you brought the ring yet, Scorpius?' Jean Granger asked. He shook his head. 'Then may I be allowed to make a suggestion?' They all waited with baited breath. 'At home I have a ring, an old one. It was brought for my grandmother by her then boyfriend before he went off to war over a hundred years ago. It was common practise then. A boy would present his girlfriend with this "Regard" ring then, if he came home, they would get engaged.'

'Why's it called a "Regard" ring, granny?" Rose asked.

It's six stones, dear. Ruby, Emerald, Garnet, Amethyst, Ruby and Diamond. It's a kind of statement of intent. If nobody objects, I would like to give this ring to Scorpius. I think he may be able to make use of it.'

It was a wonderful gesture, Rose hugged her Gran fiercely and Scorpius thanked her from the bottom of his heart. Both Ron and Hermione agreed it was a suitable compromise.

Jean looked at her daughter. 'If you want, you could do that "Apparatus" thing that frightens the life out of me and go and get it now. I suppose you won't need the keys, will you?'

-o0o-

They all went to see Ginny and Harry on Boxing Day. It was a tradition now that they met up. Ginny virtually _dragged_ Hermione in to the kitchen at Grimmauld Place.

'Come on then, spill the beans. Have they actually got engaged? They're a bit young, aren't they? Is she pregnant?'

Hermione was a bit miffed at the last part; it was like a slur on Rose's character. 'No! Of course she isn't. Anyway, they aren't much younger than you were. He did ask if they could get married though. Ron told him what your dad told you, and asked them to wait a bit.' She couldn't resist a waspish dig back. 'Of course, _my daughter_ didn't feel the need to blow up any trees. The ring's a sort of…statement of intent.'

Ginny looked a bit sheepish, realising maybe she had been a bit offensive. 'Are you happy for them?'

Hermione shrugged. 'We've known it was going to happen for years, it was only a matter of time. They're like me and Ron.'

'Oh Hermione, I'm so sorry.'

'What?'

'You mean she's highly intelligent, but still managed to bag herself a prat?' Both women laughed; Hermione knew Ginny was only joking.

'No! They're soul mates; they probably knew it from the moment they met on the train.' She ran her hand through her hair. 'There is a feeling of inevitability about it.'

'So why aren't you happy for them?' Ginny was looking at her very shrewdly.

'I am! Honestly. It's just that…oh, Ginny. It's not that they're too young, it's that they're too old!' Ginny looked lost. 'They're so wrapped up in their studying and exams and they've already got their whole lives mapped out. I'm worried they'll die one day and realise they've never actually lived. I don't think they know how to have fun together.'

'I would have thought that would come as a relief to you.'

'I don't mean like that! And they're not, by the way, before you ask. Which I know you will!' Hermione waved her hands hopelessly. 'I mean going out and having fun; the pictures or a nightclub or something, just being teenagers. You know, I'm tempted to encourage them to go on holiday together after the exams, and not to some museum or library, but somewhere where they can swim and have a drink and let their hair down. Even if it does mean she comes back and has to "tip me the wink".'

'Maybe that's what makes them happy. Have you thought of that? Come on, I haven't congratulated them properly yet.'

-o0o-

Once again Rose and Scorpius returned to Hogwarts after a Christmas holiday to find themselves the centre of attention. Her mum would have been astounded to realise that all the girls in the school considered Rose to be a true romantic heroine; running away, engaged at seventeen – well, as good as. It was better than anything in "Witch Weekly". They all wanted to see the ring and sighed whenever she and Scorpius walked past them in the corridors. Rose found herself being asked for all sorts of advice on love and relationships, most of which she didn't have a clue how to answer.

As before, Scorpius had the easier time. The boys questions were still a variant of 'You are getting it, aren't you?'

The excitement felt on their behalf by everyone else by-passed them, to be honest. Once term had started, the only things that concerned them were work, more work and revision in preparation for the exams. If they did sit up late it was to finish an essay, not to stare in to each others eyes. To an extent, Aunt Ginny had been right. It was knowledge and laying foundations for the future that made them happy, along with spending as much time together as possible.

Back at home things returned to normal as well. Hermione continued to work long hours, and Ron waited patiently for her to come home, a meal ready. They never argued about it, it was just the way things were.

The children stayed at school to revise during the Easter holidays; Rose and Al for NEWTS, Hugo and Lily for OWLS. Well, Hugo was at school, but mainly to laze around by the lake pretending to read a book. OWLS weren't a problem, all the knowledge was in his head, he just had to get it out on the day.

Ron and Hermione did get away at Easter though, with Ginny and Harry, which was lovely. They went down to the West Country and spent the time exploring pubs and restaurants, and made a visit to Godric's Hollow. It came as a surprise to Hermione to realise that Ron had never been there before, and she hadn't since that incident during their hunt for the horocruxes. Harry and Ginny visited often, of course. They made a point of going down every year on the anniversary of his parent's death to place flowers on their grave. At one point, Harry had even considered restoring their old house and turning it to a museum, but in the end decided that leaving as it stood made a far better memorial.

It was during this holiday, as they sat in a lovely country pub, that Harry told them he had made a change to his "Great Plan". It was still going ahead, of course, but not to the same timescales. He would leave once he had turned fifty, as soon as a post came up.

'Why?' asked Hermione. 'Why not stick to the original plan?'

'Because…by that stage it will be over thirty years since Riddle died. I just get a feeling I need to be around for it.'

She was peering at him in a way she hadn't done for many years. 'Is this to do with your scar? Has it started tingling again?'

He laughed at the concern on her face. 'Don't panic! No it hasn't, and it never will. I don't mean he's coming back, Riddle's dead for good this time. No, it's just a feeling I've got. Something significant about it and I think I need to be around, that's all.'

'Oh Harry! How many times do you have to give up what you want to save us all?'

'We've all got our jobs to do; it's what makes us what we are. Isn't that right, Ron? You ready to stop being an auror?'

'No way, mate. I want to die with my boots on!' Ron and Harry laughed, Ginny and Hermione didn't.

'That isn't funny, Ron.'

'It's only an expression, Hermione.'

'I don't care, I don't like it.' She was glaring at him.

'I don't understand. What have I said?'

'Right!' said Ginny, very brightly indeed, 'Let's order lunch. What do you fancy, Hermione?' Ron and Harry looked at each other and shrugged.

-o0o-

Exams were approaching, and Rose's letters home started to resemble Hermione's all those years ago. They knew every detail of her revision schedule. Hugo's tended to be along the lines of 'Everything's cool. You OK?' What could they do? Perhaps a set of poor results would give him the kick up the backside he needed.

The other thing that had been settled was what Rose and Scorpius would do next year. They were staying on at Hogwarts, to become research students in Herbology and Potions. Things had moved on a little since Hermione's times though. Direct teaching was no longer encouraged, certainly in the first year. Instead, they would help around the class, and perhaps do some remedial work if required. The two thought long and hard about where to stay; the castle was possible, but maybe outside would be better?

The question was settled by one of those strange coincidences that sometimes crop up. The flat over Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was vacant (the Manager had brought a house long ago) so they decided to rent it. When Uncle George saw the names on the tenancy agreement, he immediately wrote to Rose telling her he had made a mistake, and the proper rental was 'one galleon a month, and I won't take a knut less!' That was a great help to them, and they were overwhelmed by his kindness. 

Then they had to approach both sets of parents, rather nervously, to suggest the scheme. Of course, Ron got to the letter first, and spent several anxious hours waiting for Hermione to come home.

'Well? What do you think? I reckon they'd be much better staying at the castle, don't you?'

'Ron, what problem?

'Well, they can't look after themselves, can they? Neither of them can cook, nor clean the toilet.'

'They're the same age as we were. I think its lovely they're starting out in the same flat as we did; it's making me quite nostalgic. Remember all the things we got up to in there?'

'Exactly. What if they start "getting up to things"?'

'Oh Ron! He's already asked if they can get married. I hope for their sakes they do start. Might cheer them up a bit. I was going to suggest they went on holiday together after the exams anyway. She's a big girl now.'

Hermione did get Rose and Scorpius away together over the holidays; they spent a month on a very quiet Greek island with no museums or libraries in sight. They spent the days lounging on the beach, or swimming in the warm, clear waters. The evenings were spent in a tiny taverna watching the sun set over the Aegean. Within a week, the nights were spent making love, and they felt very much better for it. Rose tipped her mum the wink when they got back, and Hermione immediately got Ron decorating the guest room. Hugo got a clip round the ear when he said that was an excellent idea, maybe he'd started hunting around for a girl.

Both children were at home for the exam results. Rose got her seven straight "O" NEWTS, Scorpius calling to say he'd done the same.

Hugo opened his letter, glanced at it and tossed it to one side with a shrug. Hermione snatched it off the table. Seven "O"s and one "E". 

'Hugo! Oh, well done, darling! These are incredible results!'

'Yeah, s'pose so.'

'So what subjects will you take for NEWTS?'

'Dunno.'

'Well…have you thought about what you might like to do when you leave?'

'Dunno.' With that he headed back upstairs to sit in front of his computer, the results forgotten. Hermione sat there completely exasperated. What would become of her son?


	20. Regeneration

Once more, Ron and Hermione thought they had reached calmer waters. 

Well, Ron had been there for a while of course. He was one of that small, select band – people who were happy. He still had his team of "Achievers", and he worked hard to make sure they were the best, and stayed that way. Occasionally he would throw a surprise at them, like a shout at two o'clock in the morning, and they would all turn up to discover it was a training exercise in "The Village of the Damned". He never got many Christmas cards from their girlfriends.

Hermione was now well settled in to her job, and was generally considered to be a good Minister. Her plan to computerise the Ministry had succeeded, and it was now possible to walk the corridors without the risk of having your eye taken out by a memo. Obviously, there had been resistance to change, but once the system was in, people wondered why it hadn't been done years ago.

As her confidence had grown, she'd also found it easier to delegate. It was no longer necessary for her to sit on every committee, and she took a more robust approach to the reports and documents she took home of an evening. Authors soon found they were taking a lot more care over their work. A badly written report would come back with "Please re-write in English" or even "Please see me" scrawled across it. "Please see me" was a phrase people began to dread. If you wanted to argue something in front of the Minister, you'd better be good. She could pick holes in the best presentation, and wafflers got very short shrift. If you didn't know your subject, you were in big trouble, as many timeservers found to their cost.

Of course, as a trained lawyer, there was no point trying to blind her with science, either. Words were her business, and she was more than capable of delving in to the minutiae of a report. It didn't worry her that this might be at eight or nine o'clock at night, and she couldn't see why it should worry anyone else either.

Conversely, by pushing the work down, and setting very high standards, it was getter rarer and rarer that she had to stay late. Often, she was home by early evening. They even started going to the pictures again occasionally.

Modernisation was still her watchword. She had taken many people by surprise by introducing change to the Wizengamot. This had always struck her a something of an "old-boy's network"; it wasn't _what_ you knew, but _who_ you knew. She wanted to get the best brains in to it, so shocked everybody by making her first change – the Minister could not be a member. It was a separation of the offices of power she had seen in other countries, and admired.

The maximum membership remained at fifty, but now people could nominate members to fill spaces caused by retirement or resignation. The remaining members would then discuss the suitability of nominees, and could vote if there were more than one. Of course, what she wanted eventually was a properly elected Wizengamot, just like the muggles had, with members having to offer themselves up for re-election every few years. Even Hermione realised that was a long term goal, though.

On the domestic front, things were also going well.

Rose and Scorpius were doing well in their studies, and both were still at Hogwarts and living in the flat over Weasley's. Ron and Hermione had visited them and stayed over. Hermione had got in to the habit of visiting Hogwarts once a year to address the NEWT students, always pausing before the plaque to pay her respects, of course. She would normally arrange this for a Friday so that she could stay with Rose, so it was common sense that Ron, with some of his team, would accompany her.

It was strange returning to their first home as guests. The first visit had been quite nostalgic for them, but a strain for Rose and Scorpius. They had spent days making sure the place was spotless, and even had some practise runs at what they were going to cook. For the parents, it was quite hard to sit down and be waited on; Ron wanted to head in to the kitchen and start cooking.

It was a necessary part of their studies that Rose and Scorpius had to go and work with other people from time to time. Trips were to Europe as well as in Britain. Scorpius spent three months with Neville's old mentor, Professor Angyalka in Hungary. That separation was very difficult for Rose, she'd never been apart from him for so long, and was quite disgusted when she found she was crying herself to sleep at night and hugging his pillow when she awoke in the mornings.

After three years, their formal studies were complete, and they felt ready to start out on their own. They travelled to Malfoy Manor to discuss their plans for their business with his parents, who were willing to let them have space. Then they went to see her parents, where Scorpius was finally given permission to marry by Ron.

-o0o-

It was to be a very low key wedding, they didn't want any fuss. Lily would be the only bridesmaid. Only a few school friends were invited, and some of the teachers; including Professor Longbottom, of course. Scorpius's parents would be there, obviously, but his grandmother had died some years ago. The rest were Weasleys and Potters. Quiet words were spoken around the family as most had not seen Draco since Fred had died, and Hermione wanted to be certain there would be no scenes. It was made clear he was the groom's father, and if they didn't like it, stay away. It was only a couple of days before the wedding she realised she would have to dance with Malfoy, and almost decided not to go herself. Then she took a deep breath; she had spent fourteen hours in labour, she could cope with three minutes on her feet.

Rose wanted her mum to come with her to choose the dress, and Hermione went in to raptures over various gowns with bustles and frills and lots of adornments. Rose said they would make her look like something on top of a Christmas tree and settled for a very simple medieval style dress; cut low on the waist and with flowing sleeves, in pure white. Hermione thought it made her look even more winsome than usual, but said nothing.

She sat and watched as her only daughter walked down the aisle on Ron's arm. She was crying, of course, but these were not just tears of a proud mother. Hermione couldn't put her finger on it, but she felt sad – no, not sad - bereft. Her beautiful, intelligent, talented daughter had never fulfilled her true potential, she felt. She had never exploded on to the world and made an impact in the way Hermione imagined she might have done. Here she was being married at only twenty years old, and no doubt children would follow soon. Rose would never be more than a wife and mother, working on her potions and herbs; and Hermione had wanted so much more for her. She hardly heard the service.

Afterwards, the dance with Malfoy was not as bad as she had expected. As Scorpius and Rose stood up, he approached her, offering his hand and saying 'May I?' She had inclined her head in agreement and he took her hand to lead her to the floor. Ron was doing the same with Astoria. Malfoy turned out to be a surprising good dancer; very light on his feet and able to lead her. His hands were very soft and cool. When the music stopped, he bowed to her and said 'I hope it was not as bad as you had imagined. Thank you.' Then he walked away and did not speak to her again. She walked back to her chair somewhat confused at what she was feeling. It was almost a sense of disappointment that he not asked her to dance again, or try to have a conversation.

During the reception, whilst Ron was chatting and she was on her own, Rose came over and sat next to her.

'Mum, why can't you be happy for me?'

'I am, darling. Of course I am.'

'You're not, I can tell. Why can't you see I've got everything I ever wanted in life? I'll never be Minister, or world famous like you, but I don't want that. I've got Scorp, and we'll be together for the rest of our lives now.' Her eyes were glistening. 'It's enough for me; why can't it be enough for you?'

Hermione took her in to a hug. 'I'm sorry. Of course it can.' She almost managed a real smile.

The huge surprise came later in the evening, just before Rose and Scorpius departed for the Leaky Cauldron, where they would spend the night before going on honeymoon. They were asked to join Draco and his wife, along with the happy couple.

'We have a present for you' said Draco to Scorpius and Rose. 'Malfoy Manor. It's yours.'

'But what about you? Where are you going?' asked Scorpius, stunned.

'The Lodge. It is far more suitable for our needs now, and hopefully you can fill the house with your children.' He paused. 'It is a house that needs the laughter of children; it has been silent for too long.'

Rose went to Draco and, putting her arms around his neck, hugged him. He has a look of surprise on his face, and didn't quite know what to do. Ron wondered if it was the first time it had ever happened to him.

-o0o-

Meanwhile, what of Hugo? He had been sat down and forced to choose some NEWT options, on the basis that 'Dunno' wasn't a subject. Finally he had picked four, mainly on the basis that they were not Rose's best topics.

'Honestly, dad, you can't imagine what its like to be constantly told how brilliant your bloody sister was. I spent five years hearing it, so you can forget Potions and Herbology.'

Ron had some sympathy for him. Two head boys and a Quidditch captain had been hard a hard act to follow as well. Not to mention Harry Potter and a certain Hermione Jane Granger – school swot.

Without appearing to do a stroke of work in two years – he was not one for staying on during the holidays to revise, for example – Hugo left Hogwarts with four NEWTS - 3 "O"s and an "E". 

'So, what next? You aren't skiving off us, you can get a job.'

'Dunno.'

'Oh, Hugo!' screamed Hermione in frustration. 'I've got a daughter who probably knows to the minute when she's going to die, _and_ how she'll fill every second until then, and a son who doesn't have a clue what will happen in the next hour! What would you _like_ to do?'

'Well, I've been sort of thinking about journalism. You know, like Aunt Ginny.'

'Oh, I see. And you think you can just walk in to "The Daily prophet", do you? What are you going to put on your CV?'

'I reckon "My name is Hugo Weasley, I've got four NEWTS and my mum's the Minister for Magic" might be a good start.' Hermione began banging her head lightly on the table.

To their horror and/or amazement, that was pretty much what happened. Hugo had a chat with Aunt Ginny, who had a chat with the editor, who invited Hugo in for a chat.

'So, Mr Weasley, how do you view Wizarding Britain now we're a quarter of the way through the 21st century?'

No, he didn't say 'Dunno', don't be silly. He wasn't talking to his parents now. He gave the editor a forty-five minute discourse covering economics, politics and cultural alienation amongst the young who were increasingly turning towards the muggle world.

'When can you start?'

'I'd like a chance to rest for a while after the exams, sir. What about the 1st of August?' This was agreeable.

Hugo spent the first few months shadowing more experienced journalists, learning his trade. He also took his turn at the sub-editing desk, and wrote test pieces to establish his style. What he was found to be very good at was feature reporting, so the editor let him expand on his interview topic, and go off to talk to young wizards and witches about what they felt was important. Hugo decided Andorra would be a good place to start, especially as some of his friends had hired a chalet out there for the snowboarding season.

As he would not be home for Christmas, Ron and Hermione accepted an invitation to "Come down to the Manor for the festivities". The place did seem to have a different atmosphere to the last time they had been there; albeit the circumstances were somewhat different. It seemed brighter and less oppressive. Draco and Astoria joined them for dinner, of course, and time passed fairly pleasantly. As they sat with the port and cheeses, Rose stood up.

'It wouldn't be Christmas without a drama, would it? So,' she raised her glass 'Happy Christmas – Grannies and Granddads!' Even Draco managed to smile. Would this be the start of his real rehabilitation?

-o0o-

Mid-January found Harry in conference withThompson, Junior Undersecretary (Intelligence) and Annets.

he leaned back in his chair. 'You think they're linked?' he asked Thompson.

'It's one hell of a coincidence if not.'

Harry turned to Annets. 'A job for aurors, or Magical Law Enforcement?'

'I'd like to hope for the best, but plan for the worst. I'll send Weasley's team. If nothing else it'll get them out of the Office for a few hours.'

Harry smiled. 'Getting restless are they?' It had been a quiet few months.

'You heard what happened in International Co-operation?' Harry had to stifle a laugh. 'It's not funny, boss. She's 58; she nearly had a heart attack. Percy Weasley's writing a report that's going to the Minister.'

He was referring to an event that had happened the previous week. One of "The Achievers" couldn't find his lunch, and decided it had been stolen. In reality, he'd left it at home. For some reason, following a particularly long and tortuous piece of logic, they had all decided the culprit was somebody in the International Magical Trading Standards Body, so had mounted a raid. Several doors had been forcibly removed from their hinges, and Mr Stubbs had been put in a full body bind. Miss Dorset, the erstwhile 58 year old spinster had been taken away and threatened with "interrogation" unless she "bubbled up the slimeball what done it". She had to be taken home afterwards, still shaking. 

The Achievers took over a conference room for the briefing. Rumour was this was a real shout; you could almost smell the testosterone. It was like a schoolboy convention in there; elastic bands were being flicked and two tables had already been broken. People in surrounding offices sighed; there was no point going in to complain, the last person who had tried that had been _levicorpused _to the roof of the Atrium

Ron entered the room, grinning at the high spirits; this was the atmosphere he loved, the palpable tension before going out on a job. Everybody immediately fell silent and took a seat; they may have acted like schoolboys, but they were all good pros.

'OK, we've got a shout.' Eveybody cheered. He paused for effect. 'Stolen goods.' There was silence in the room; it was as if somebody had told the 4th years their first Hogsmeade weekend had been cancelled. Then everybody spoke – shouted - at once.

'Stolen goods?' 'Us, chief?' 'That's a job for the plods!'

'Settle down. You haven't heard what's been stolen yet. Right, what big anniversary's coming up?' More silence. 'Didn't _anybody_ listen to Binns in History of Magic?'

'Of course not.' 'No way.' 'Nobody does.'

'Alright, you bunch of thickos, I'll give you a clue. Something I'm quite famous for!'

'Blimey chief, is it already ten years since you made a fool of yourself with Leanne Hopkinson?' The room erupted again in to howls of laughter, and there was much banging of hands on desks. People in surrounding offices began composing E-mails to the Head of Facilities.

Somebody had got Leanne drunk at a party just after she moved to Intelligence, and she – in "strictest confidence of course" – told everybody there about how Ron Weasley had tried to have an affair with her. It immediately passed in to Ministry legend. In certain circles, Leanne was still known as "Ron's bit of skirt" even though she was now married with two children, and getting a little "hippy".

Ron had no choice but to take that one on the chin. 'I still haven't sorted out the night duty roster for the next six months.' They calmed down again.

'Its thirty years since Voldemort died. Just recently there have been a series of robberies; all the items taken had links to either him or his Death Eaters. Wands, the skull of his bloody snake, that sort of thing. It could just be that somebody's realised the memorabilia market's about to take an up-turn. On the other hand, maybe a few people are getting nostalgic. Some life sentences are coming to an end out in Askaban, and I've no doubt a few of the scum are still pining for "the good old days". These items could act as a rallying point for a last hurrah.

Now, the plods have been on the case, they think they know where this stuff's being stored. We're going in to have a look. It could be we'll just find a few low lifes; but we don't take any chances. If they're old Death Eaters, they know their business, and they've got nothing to lose.'

He went on to describe the scene; a tumbledown house in the middle of nowhere, and set out the plan of attack. The team started apparating to the designated meeting point.

It was quite obvious this was no nest of Death eaters; the wards were penetrated far too easily. A couple of hour's observation revealed a collection of well known sneakthieves and pickpockets who had all served time for minor offences.

Ron moved his teams up close, and then put his wand to his throat.

'In the house! You are surrounded by aurors from the Ministry of Magic. Two choices. You come out and keep your hands where we can see them or' a pause 'we come in. Up to you, but my boys are getting restless. One minute.'

The door opened and people started shuffling out. You didn't fight aurors if you wanted to stay in one piece.

Ron took his squad forward to start binding the suspects before the search started. He congratulated himself on a job well done. Nobody hurt, and they could be back for going home time.

They didn't see the face at the upper window.


	21. The trance

Hermione tried to stifle a yawn; they were two hours in to the Senior Undersecretaries monthly meeting. This was the one she had been determined to drop as soon as she took office, but it had never happened. She had realised that, at some point, it was necessary to get all her top people together so that everybody knew what was going on.

Glancing at the agenda, she saw that International Co-operation was next up. Percy Weasley was deputising for his boss, who was at a conference. Oh joy!

'Mr Weasley, is it your intention to mention the alleged incident in Trading Standards at this meeting?'

People around the table tried not to smile. "Alleged" indeed!

'No Minister. The report on the incident – alleged incident - is still in preparation, and will be forwarded to you in due course.'

She was glad of that. Aurors running amok was bad enough, but that lot in particular…If the press got hold of it they'd have a field day. She could kill Ron. 

'However, I do have last quarter's figures for trade with Africa. I think you will I find them very interesting.' 

Everybody doubted it, especially when he pulled a very thick report from his case. Percy had a habit of reading things out.

'Just the very key highlights then, Mr Weasley, if you please. We can read the rest at our leisure and come back to you with any questions we may have.' 

Percy began telling them all, as if revealing the secrets of the Universe, how trade was down 2.3 percent on the last quarter, but had actually risen against the corresponding quarter last year.

'Surprisingly, our trade with sub-Saharan Africa is…' Hermione fixed a "How interesting!" expression on her face and started wondering what they were going to have for tea tonight.

A secretary entered the room and handed Harry a note. He glanced at it then rose, giving Hermione a "Gosh, what a pity!" sort of look and left the room. Percy was still droning on when Harry returned five minutes later, crossing straight to her and bending so he could whisper in her ear. People around the table were wondering what had happened.

'Hermione, come outside. We need to talk.' That was unusual, he never used her name at work, she was always "Minister".

'Mr Corner, will you take the chair please? I will return as soon as possible.' 'Hmm', everybody thought, 'something's up'.

As soon as they got in to the corridor, she knew this was serious. She hadn't seen that look on his face for thirty years.

'Hermione, I…' The blood drained from her face, and she swayed slightly.

'It's Ron. Is he…' She couldn't finish.

'He's been injured. They've managed to get him to St. Mungo's; I'm going to take you over there.'

'How bad?'

'I'll take you straight away.'

-o0o-

A healer was waiting for them; his face very grave.

'Mrs Weasley? I'm healer Jones.'

'What happened?'

'Your husband has been "shot", that means somebody used a muggle…'

'I know what shot means. Is he going to live?'

'He's in the theatre now. The "bullet" entered his abdomen, there's a lot of bleeding and we're trying to control it.'

'Will he live?'

'We're doing everything we can, Mrs Weasley, that's the best I can give you. There is something else, though.' Might as well get it all out of the way at once. 'The bullet passed very close to his spine. We won't know what that means until we can do a proper assessment.'

'So if he lives, he could be paralysed?'

'That would be the worst case scenario, it may be there are no ill effects. I need to get back inside. Mr Potter, can you stay?'

'I've got family coming over. I can stay until then. I will need to get back to the Ministry though.' Harry would have to deal with the press once the news got out that one of "The Golden Trio" was injured. Injured, at best.

Hermione stood there, pale and shaking, staring at the floor and chewing a nail. Harry put his arm around her. 'Shall we sit down?' She didn't respond. 'Hermione, come and sit down, over here next to me.' She followed like an automaton.

They sat, he still with his arm around her, she doing and saying nothing, just staring and shaking. He got a medi-witch to bring a blanket to wrap around her. Eventually, Ginny arrived and he got up to fill her in.

'I've got to get back to the Ministry' he finished. 'I'll get messages to Rose and Hugo.'

'Harry, not Rose. You must speak to Scorpius first, not her. That's important. The baby…a shock like this…'

Harry nodded and departed, Ginny sat and took Hermione in her arms, rocking her and stroking her hair as she would a small child who had had a fall.

'Twenty-five years I've been waiting for this.' Hermione's voice was low and flat. She wasn't really talking to Ginny at all. 'Twenty-five years. I knew it would happen, so every day when he came back, I knew it was just a day closer, that's all. When the children were little, and he was on a night shout, I used to stand there and watch them sleep, wondering how I was going to tell them that daddy was never coming home again.'

That broke the dam, and she allowed her grief to flood over her. Ginny carried on rocking and holding her.

'I know, I know. I was the same with Harry.'

'But he got out; Ron never did. They offered him a promotion, you know. He was good enough to go up the ladder, but he turned it down, didn't want a desk job. I should have made him take it.' The grief was building to a climax.

'I should have made him. I told her I'd take care of him. I made a promise. I should have made him take it; I've failed her.' She gave herself up completely to her despair and desolation, her whole body wracked with sobs.

Ginny didn't have a clue what Hermione was talking about, but that wasn't important. She just had to make the right noises.

'Of course you haven't. You've not let anyone down, Hermione. You've always cared for him. He knows that.'

'No. I've put my job first, and been angry with him and shouted at him. He does all the cooking. I've never looked after him like I should have done.' Ginny just had to let her cry, providing what solace she could, until the grief spent itself through exhaustion.

-o0o-

Rose arrived eventually, supported by Scorpius. Ginny immediately crossed to her, giving a hug, and providing as much detail as she could. It wasn't a lot; her dad had been shot, he was still in surgery.

'Are you OK, Rose? The baby?'

'I'm Ok, Aunt Ginny. I'll go to mum.' She knelt in front of her mother, taking her hand. 'I'm here, it's Rose.'

Hermione looked up, her face searching. 'He planted a rose tree, just for you when you were born.' The tears came again, and Rose took over hugging her mother. She had to stay strong now for two generations.

Harry was having trouble tracking down Hugo who was on assignment, but nobody knew where. The editor of the "Daily Prophet" agreed to not run the story until Hugo had been contacted. He liked the lad and didn't want him to hear about his father in a banner headline, plus Ginny Potter wouldn't thank him.

'If we've not found him by the time we go to press, I'll put a message on the front page, telling him to contact the office. But, if we have tracked him down, I'll run it. That's the best I can give you. Send Ginny my love and tell her to take as much time off as she needs, ok?'

Harry had a couple of aurors and a Magical Law Enforcement team posted at the hospital, just in case the story did break and the crowds started building up. More details were coming in as Ron's team were debriefed. It was a young lad, only 17, who was responsible. He'd been in and out of trouble all his life, and decided to try and fight his way clear. Nobody knew where the gun had come from; it still wasn't common for wizard criminals to carry them. He was now in the hospital wing at Azkaban, having apparently tried jumping from the window after shooting Ron.

Harry told them to burn their statements and try again. This time, could they have the kid being stunned and put in a body bind _after_ he "jumped", and not before? Yes, he knew it was a cover-up, but this time allowed his personal feelings to get in the way; the potential effect on his career didn't matter anymore. He wanted to get back to St. Mungo's.

They sat and waited, and the hours passed. Nobody spoke, there was nothing to say. Hermione continued to sob in the arms of whoever was holding her at the time.

After an age, healer Jones approached them again.

'Mrs Weasley, your husband has come through the operation, but he is very weak, and in a coma. We just have to let…'

Hermione had stood up and thrown off the blanket. She moved towards the door the healer had come from.

'Mrs Weasley… please…' He tried to stop her but she pushed him out of the way, her face fixed. Entering the room, she saw Ron on the bed, very pale and not moving. A bottle of Blood Replenishment potion was being run in to his left arm.

Drawing up a chair on his right, she took his hand between hers and pressed it to her forehead, and then she closed her eyes. She was to stay in that position for the next forty-eight hours. Nobody could get through to her.

-o0o-

Rose and Hugo stood talking to the healer. Hugo had seen the message on the front of the "Prophet" and contacted his editor, who told him to go straight to the hospital. Between the two of them and Aunt Ginny they were working shifts, always two of them at St. Mungo's, the other at Grimmauld Place getting some sleep. 

'We really need to move her from the room, if we can. She needs to drink if nothing else, and it's very difficult to examine your father.'

They agreed that two healers should try to get their mother up, but it proved difficult; her grip was like iron. Eventually they prised her free, but as they tried to get her to stand she went in to a hysteria fit; screaming and crying and fighting like a demon. One of the healers was thrown to the floor. Having broken free, Hermione had rushed back to Ron's side and, pressing his hand to her forehead, went back in to a trance.

'That is almost what it's like' said the healer. 'It is some kind of trance; I've never seen anything like it. I don't want to try that again, the only way to move her would be to stun her, and I don't want to do that.'

Hugo returned to the house when Ginny arrived to take over. She and Rose sat together waiting for …something. They had desultory conversations about the baby, but Rose wasn't much in the mood to talk and they lapsed again in to silence.

'Er-mi-nee'.

They looked up, hardly believing what they had heard. Both women approached the bed, but Ron lay as still and pale as ever; Hermione hadn't moved. They sat down again; half believing they had both imagined it.

'I'll look after you. I promised her I would.'

This time there was no doubt, it had been Hermione who had spoken.

'Mum, can you hear me? Mum. Mum! Talk to me!'

There was nothing. Ginny sent for the healer who came in and examined Ron; he had got in to the habit of checking on Hermione as well.

'The fact that Mr Weasley said something is a good sign, but I still can't see any evidence of either of them coming round. I'm totally baffled by it all.' 

'Don't you have any ideas at all?' asked Rose.

He hesitated. 'I wouldn't dream of saying this in front of my colleagues, they'd have me on the fourth floor. Some people say that the body is merely a vessel for the soul, and when we die here, it is simply the soul moving on. Others say that between those two events, there is a kind of limbo where we can make the choice. Your mother and father obviously have a very strong bond; if what I have said is true, perhaps your mother has gone after him. Of course, what I have said is merely a mixture of rather off-beat theory and superstition. My medical answer to you is that your mother is in deep shock.'

'But you don't think its shock, do you healer?' He shook his head, looking uncomfortable. 'Then I think my father will recover.' Rose smiled, slightly, for the first time since she had arrived. The healer looked confused.

'They've known each other for forty year, healer. He's never won an argument with her yet.'

-o0o-

Three hours later, Hermione suddenly sat up and placed Ron's hand back on the bed. She looked around, seeing Rose and Ginny.

'Hello, you two. I didn't see you follow me in. Ron will be waking up soon, and I want to be here, but do you mind if we go and get a cup of tea? I'm incredibly thirsty.'

Rose went with her up to the tea room on the fifth floor, seeing the healer on the way out.

'My husband will be waking up soon; I want to be here when he does. What happened to your eye?'

The healer touched it gingerly. 'Oh, nothing, wasn't looking where I was going. I'll have a look at him.'

'I can't think why I'm so thirsty, you know' Hermione said a short while later, having drained her fourth cup, 'it's not been that long since lunch.'

Rose looked her. 'Mum, it's been two days.'

'Don't be silly, dear.'

'No, mum, it has. You've been in some kind of trance; we couldn't do anything with you. You just sat there holding dad's hand.' Should she tell her? 'Mum, you only spoke once. Who did you promise you'd look after dad? Was it Gran Weasley?' 

'Probably, dear, I don't remember.' She looked down in to her cup. 'Let's get back. The hard work hasn't started yet.'


	22. Recuperation

Hermione was back at the bedside as Ron's eyed fluttered open.

'Hermione'

'Ron, you're back.' The tears flowed again, and she wiped them angrily away. She needed to be strong now.

He looked around. 'Am I in St Mungo's again? It was all going so well, I thought we had it covered. What happened?'

'You got yourself shot, you silly old fool. You gave us all a bit of a scare.'

'Must be getting old, slowing down. I've had the strangest dream. I was at Hogwarts.'

'Never mind that, you need to rest. You've not been well at all.'

'No, wait, I want to tell you about my dream. I was at Hogwarts, only I wasn't at first, I think, because everything was foggy, but when the fog cleared I was there.

I wasn't feeling very well, so I tried to go to the hospital wing to see Madame Pomfrey, but Lavender stood in front of the doors and wouldn't let me in. I said I had to because I was ill, but she said you were coming to take me home. You'd look after me because you'd promised.

Then we heard you coming, and Lavender said she had to go but, but I was to tell you that…you still owed her a shopping trip and she hadn't forgotten. Isn't that a strange thing to dream?' Hermione nodded and said it was.

'Then you came and said we had to go, but Gawp reached in through a window and grabbed you, and I called out and you fought him off and came back to me.

So I told you I wasn't well and had to go in to the hospital but you said you'd look after me because you'd promised her you would. Then we tried to go home, but my legs were tired, so you said you'd go on ahead and wait for me. Then I came back here, and sort of …it was like I was a pair of pyjamas I had to put on.

I told you it was a strange dream, didn't I? Why would you have promised Lavender anything, after what happened?'

Hermione smiled at him. 'It was just a strange dream, Ron, but it's over now. I will look after you; everything's going to be ok.' Her face took on that look of love and tenderness that only one person had ever seen before. 'Look, Rose is here, and Ginny.'

Rose leant down to give him a hug. 'Oh, dad. Don't frighten me like that again.' And Ginny said 'You prat, Ron' but she was crying as well and hugged him. Then the healer said they all had to leave so that Mr Weasley could get some rest.

Rose was determined she was going to find out as much as she could about this promise. She knew her dad hadn't been dreaming.

-o0o- 

'Uncle Harry, who's Lavender?' Rose was at Grimmauld Place with her aunt and uncle. Mum and Hugo were doing the hospital shift. 'Dad talked about her when he woke up.'

'The only one I can think of is Lavender Brown.'

'She's on the plaque at school, I remember her name. So she died in the battle?'

'The day after, I think. She'd been very badly wounded. Your mum was sitting with her in the hospital wing at the time; I remember her being really upset about it. They'd shared a dormitory.'

'I didn't know Hermione was with her. How awful.' said Ginny.

'You'd gone back to The Burrow by then…with Fred. Erm – I suppose I should have told you earlier, but…don't take this the wrong way, will you? We sort of slept together that night.'

'What!' Both Ginny and Rose leapt up.

'You've slept…my mum? Oh no, scary place!'

Harry was smiling. 'I said don't take it the wrong way! We slept. She didn't want to go back to her dorm because all Lavender's things were still in there, so she came in with me and Neville. She was so exhausted I had to carry her up the stairs, and I put her in your dad's bed. Then I had one of…well, I had a bad dream. She came and held me. She's always been like my big sister, and she looked after me.'

'But what I don't understand is why mum would have promised this Lavender she'd look after dad. We're they close friends?'

Harry and Ginny looked at each other, smiling. 'Is she old enough?' asked Harry. Ginny nodded.

'Lavender was your dad's first girlfriend.'

'Oh, wow! I thought mum and dad had been together for, just like, forever!'

'They sort of have' said Ginny. 'They're a lot like you and Scorpius. They were inseparable from the first year, and it was obvious to everybody else they loved each other from probably third year. They just needed a little…shove in the right direction. Lavender did that. It didn't please your mum when she found out about them, though.'

'Yes, you could say that' chipped in Harry. 'It was a bad couple of months, and I was caught right in the middle. Your dad and Lavender weren't exactly subtle...'

'Merlin no!' came back Ginny. 'They used to writhe around like a couple of eels in the middle of the Common Room! ('You're kidding!' hooted Rose. 'Dad?') That used to really upset Hermione, remember?'

'…yes. I do! It sort of got a bit personal after your mum set the canaries on him.'

'What! This is _my_ mum and dad you're talking about!'

'I know! She's got a fine old temper on her, especially with him. But she did, she set these canaries on him – using _Opugno_!' Harry's laughter was getting the better of him. 'It wasn't funny really; he got quite badly scratched' he was guffawing now 'and pecked!' He began rolling round on the sofa, and Ginny had to take over.

'That's why she took Mclaggen to the Christmas party. Ron hated him, so it was a way of getting him back, making him jealous.'

'And you were at this party with Uncle Harry?'

'No, he went with Luna Lovegood…'

'What? You went out with her?'

'No! I do have standards. We were just friends; anyway, Ginny was with Dean Thomas at the time.'

'Merlin!' said Rose at last 'it sounds like a knocking shop! What did you do? Swap partners every time the music stopped?'

They spent the rest of the evening in happy reminiscences about school days, and laughed a lot. It made a change from the last few days.

As Rose was getting ready for bed that night, she thought about her parents being young. It was very hard to imagine; parents always seemed old. She felt sad about Lavender though; she must have really loved him. They had been so young; younger than she was now, and had been through so much. Maybe, she thought with a sense of realisation, that's why mum had seemed so…disappointed in her? She looked down at her belly, which was just starting to show the signs of her growing baby and rubbed it with her hands. 'We'll never go through what they did, Pumpkin. I hope we're worthy of them.'

-o0o-

Back at the hospital, things weren't quite as cheerful; Ron was still seriously ill. He'd been back in to surgery, as the healers weren't convinced they'd caught all the bleeding. When they opened him up they found a small tear in the intestine that they'd missed the first time round. After that was fixed he began to improve, but it was going to be a long slow process.

His legs were also a cause for concern. He had some feeling in them, but very little control; it was obvious nerves had been damaged by the bullet. He would spend weeks, if not months, needing physiotherapy and exercise to strengthen the muscles. In effect, he was going to have to learn to walk again.

Once he was obviously out of immediate danger, Rose had returned to Malfoy Manor and Hugo had gone back to work. Harry and Ginny had insisted that Hermione move in with them temporarily so that there was less travelling involved, and they could make sure she was eating properly. She had returned to the Ministry as well, but cleared her diary as much as possible so that she could continue to visit Ron every evening. 

They would sit for several hours, just talking about general things, or deciding what to do for the next stage. Ron wanted to go home, but thought they would have to hire a nurse to care for him and give him the exercises he needed. Hermione said it needed thinking about, and they had a couple of weeks to decide; he would have to stay in that long for his wounds to heal sufficiently anyway.

One evening she came in with her eyes shining. He hadn't seen her looking so happy for days. It made him feel better just by looking at her; he hated the pain he'd caused.

'It's all sorted; you can come home at the weekend, the healers say. Isn't that wonderful?'

'You got a nurse arranged? Fantastic. I'm getting so bored lying here.'

'You don't need a nurse. I'm going to look after you. I'm going to be a proper wife for a change.'

'But, you can't! Your job.'

'I called a meeting of the Wizangemot. I can do that, I'm the Minister! I resigned.'

'NO! Hermione, no. I won't let you. You may be the Minister, but I'm your husband. I won't let you do it, not for me.'

'Calm down, Ron! They didn't accept it. They said I could have a six month leave of absence, and then we'd review it. Harry and James Corner have been made my deputies. They can do the work, and come out to the house once a week or so to brief me. I may have to make the odd trip in, but we can get some cover for that.' 

She beamed at him. He knew that smile; it was the one that said "Everything's sorted, so don't even try arguing."

-o0o-

Ron was transported home to find the house literally turned upside down. The dining room was now their bedroom, and the living room a gymnasium. Lying in bed for nearly a month had caused his muscles to waste somewhat and they needed building up. There was also a set of parallel bars he would need to help with his walking exercises.

Hermione had taken an exam approach to the whole thing. On the wall was a multi-coloured chart showing when he would do arm exercise, leg exercise, walking practise, rest and so on with achievement targets set out on a periodic basis. Unfortunately, his nerves and muscles couldn't read, and the bloody thing turned out to be far more of a hindrance than a help. When Ron finally got round to blasting it off the wall she didn't bother drawing up a replacement.

It may be an awfully forced metaphor, but learning to walk again was literally two steps forward, one step back. Some days were good, some not so good and some were awful. Ron had spent his whole life being active and full of energy; now on bad days he felt worse than useless. His frustration tended to be directed at Hermione, because she was there, and she found that resolute cheeriness just made it worse. So did sympathy. And anything in between. The psychology of recovery is just as important as the physical side and the strain was beginning to tell on them both.

It came to a head one day when he fell whilst trying to get along the parallel bars. As she moved forward to pick him up he just let rip.

'Don't touch me! Leave me alone! I'm sick of being a bloody invalid. Get out and leave me here! I wish I hadn't survived the operation. I'd be better off dead!'

She walked out, and left him lying there for over an hour. She forced herself to stand outside the door, hardening her heart and listening as his raging turned to self-pity and finally desperate pleas for help. Then she went back in and threw his Order of Merlin at him.

'Remember that, Ron? Remember why you got it? Was it for lying there crying and feeling sorry for yourself and making everybody else's life a misery? I don't think so.

I will give you all the help you need, but I won't ever take that again. You hear me? If you tell me once more to get out, I will. I'll pack a case and apparate out of your life – for good! You can lay there and die in your own filth if you want to, because I won't be around to see it.'

Then she lay down next to him on the floor and cuddled him until his tears finally subsided.

'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Hermione. You're the only person who's ever loved me, and you'd give up everything for me and I treat you like dirt. I've never deserved you.'

'Well you're stuck with me now, aren't you? We'll work it together, Ron. Give me the chance to be your wife. I love you, and I made promises, remember?'

'Our wedding vows? I should have known you'd take them seriously.'

'Yes, those as well.'

-o0o-

Clearing the air had been good for both of them. They learned to take each day as it came, and not try to force anything along. Ron was more relaxed, and that actually helped him concentrate more. Slowly, slowly he began to improve. The first time he made it along the bars without holding on they had a huge celebration dinner. It didn't matter that he fell when he tried it the next day. He'd done it once and he would do it again.

As the weather improved, they could get out of the house as well, and that helped. Seeing more than walls made home seem less of a prison. They had had a car for years, but never used it much, became it now became vital to them. They could go and visit Rose, whose pregnancy was coming along nicely; she and Scorpius were very much looking forward to being parents. Hermione seemed a little less enthusiastic; Rose tackled her about it one day.

'Mum, we've been through all this before. It's what I want for my life. Why can't you accept it? I haven't got a war I can fight to prove myself, like you did.'

'It isn't that dear. You'll think me silly, but…could the baby call me Hermione? I'm not sure I'm ready to be…Granny Weasley.'

Rose roared with laughter. 'Is that it? Is that what's been worrying you? Oh honestly, I can't believe you at times! How about "Minister"?' She carried on chuckling. 'Or you can tell everybody you had me when you were twelve. That way you won't seem so ancient!' Hermione was not amused.

Sometimes, Ron and Hermione just went in the garden; there was a sheltered spot near Rose's rose tree, and they liked to sit there talking. Ron was starting to look to the future again, and the medical board he would have to go through before he could return to work. He desperately wanted to go back.

'Do you think I'll ever be fit enough for operations again?'

'No Ron, you won't. Even if you were, I wouldn't let you and, yes – I can pull rank if I have to. But I don't want you to. I nearly lost you, and I never want to go through that again.'

'We'll all die one day, love. Either I'll lose you, or you'll lose me.'

'I know that. But that's part of life. It's the uncertainty I can't put up with, I never have. The wondering every day if you'd come back.'

'I never knew that. Why didn't you tell me?'

'I tried once, remember? And you asked me if I'd divorce you over it. I couldn't force you to do it; it had to come from you.'

Ron's future was settled for him by Harry, anyway.

'You're not going back on operations. I'll fight you through the medical board if I have to. Anyway, my "Grand Plan's" getting closer, so I'm going to have a shuffle round. I can't tell you what it is yet, but I've got a job for you.'

'Putting me out to pasture, are you?'

'Don't be stupid. I nearly lost my best auror, and with you would have gone twenty-five years experience. I want to get at all that information that's inside that thick head of yours before it's too late.'

Once Ron had been cleared to return by the board, things happened quite quickly. The first was that special arrangements had to be made to get him inside the building. The doctors had forbidden him to use apparition or portkeys in future because of the strain it put on his spine. Driving in to central London wasn't an option either. In the end, they designed an adapted fireplace for him, so he could floo without risk of falling.

Harry then announced a re-organisation of Law Enforcement to coincide with his retirement the following year, which took everybody by surprise apart from the Headmaster at Hogwarts. He would become the new DADA teacher at last. Rowbotham had retired as planned, and his successor was now due to go as well.

Annets would shadow Harry as Senior Undersecretary for a year, to be replaced with one of Ron's old "Achiever" members who was ready for a step up from being a Section Head. Dawlish, who was now well past retirement age, was going and Ron was to become the new Junior Undersecretary (Training). Thompson would stay in Intelligence, it was his speciality. 

'Don't think this is some kind of sop, Ron' said Harry. 'I want you to start again with a blank piece of parchment. If you aren't working sixty hours a week until I retire, I'll want to know why.'


	23. The only constant is change

The owl tapped on their window at around ten o'clock, just as they were thinking about going to bed.

'Dear **GRANNY WEASLEY** (live with it!) and granddad,

The baby is here, and everything went well. I'm not telling you anything in a letter, so you'll have to come over and see us. Tomorrow? Can you bring gran as well? Scorp sends his love and so do I.

Mummy Malfoy.'

Ron and Hermione sat there with grins on their faces. Grandparents! It was one of those life defining moments; a new generation had started and they felt like they had a place in history. They called Jean Granger, who was thrilled that she had her first great-grandchild, and she readily agreed to travel down with them the next day, as long as they took the car. 'I'm not doing any of that whizzing around, not at my age.'

Jean was impressed with the size of Malfoy Manor, but asked Hermione if she was uneasy about visiting it.

'Not any more, mum. It's laid a lot of ghosts actually, and it's a very different house to what it used to be. It was the people who were wrong, not the bricks and mortar.'

Scorpius took them up to the bedroom, Ron managing with the help of the banister and Hermione, and they went in. Rose was sat up in bed, looking very fresh and lively, with the baby in a crib at her side.

'Well, here she is.'

Hermione picked her granddaughter, holding her so that Ron and her mum could see. She was quite tiny, and fast asleep.

'So we know she's a she, has she got a name?'

'Yes, we decided to call her…Jean.' Jean Granger let out a small gasp. 'You were so good to us, gran, with the idea about the ring. That made things a lot easier for us, and we'll never forget it. So that's her name, Jean. We were thinking of making her middle name Astoria, but that would make her initials JAM, and everybody would have nicknamed her "Marmalade" at school, so we didn't!'

They stayed for a few hours, admiring the baby and making sure everything was ok. Hermione reminded Rose to let her know if she needed any help – thinking back to her own experiences as a first time mother.

'Honestly, mum, it'll be fine. The house elves do most of the work; I just have to lay here. Anyway, the birth was pretty easy, I think; I was only in labour for about six hours, so I'll be up and about soon.'

Hermione and Ron travelled down to see baby Jean quite regularly over the next few weeks, before they both had go back to work. Greatgran Jean didn't come again, though. She was getting old, and it was a long journey for her. During those visits, Hermione came to realise just what her daughter had married in to. There were five house elves in all, and they did all the work; Hermione was quite jealous.

'Actually, mum, the business is going well too, but we don't need it to be honest. I don't even think Scorp realised quite how well of he was until he took over the house. Draco and Astoria lived quite modestly, and they sort of handed over the whole estate to us, not just the house. We had to go up to Gringotts one day to take over the vault; it's one of the old ones right down the bottom, we had to go past a dragon to get to it. The Goblin who took us said you and dad would be familiar with the area, and then he laughed.'

'Was it Griphook, by any chance?' asked Ron.

'Yes! Do you know him? Oh! Was he the one who helped you break in? Of course! Anyway, when we looked inside the vault, we couldn't believe our eyes. We're worth a fortune!'

-o0o-

Ron had been cleared by the medical board to return to work, and was as excited as a child when he woke the first morning back. He walked over to the fireplace on one of his sticks, Hermione had the other. He didn't need them all the time, but it was easier to have them around for longer journeys, or if he had to deal with slopes. The healers had said he might be able to do away with them in time.

Hermione went through the floo first to be ready for him at the other end, then he came along. As he stepped out of the fireplace in the Ministry there was a sudden burst of applause, and Ron looked up to see his team standing there ready to welcome their old boss back. It was an emotional moment for him, and then Harry came forward to say a few words and take him to his new office.

Harry had been right; this job certainly wasn't putting anybody out to pasture. The training manuals hadn't been updated for years, and Ron came to the conclusion that the Ministry had produced good aurors despite them, not because. So, he threw them out and did start with a clean sheet of parchment; the beauty of that being if he had a bad day, or trouble with his back, he could work from home.

He decided to give himself a year to get things written and tested, so the new scheme could come in with next lot of first year trainees, then follow them through to the end of their formal training after three years, and one of the first things he changed was this idea of them choosing whether to go in to Operations or Intelligence. The first year of study would be cross-discipline, and then would come a decision on where people were best suited.

Many other changes eventually followed: "new" technology, which they had all been using, but was never mentioned in the training for example. He also wanted people to see what other jobs involved, to forge closer links between the various areas. This meant, eventually, that aurors would go out with "plods" and vice versa. That way, each could see that it wasn't just leg work or crash-bang-boom, depending on your point of view, and helped give a greater understanding of the various roles.

He also had the Intelligence people take their turn in "the Village of the Damned". Training exercises were deliberately set up to go wrong, based on incorrect intelligence. They would go in expecting, based on the information they had been given, to hunt down one or two people, and end up facing a war in which they were all "killed". In the subsequent debrief, the information that had been missed out or overlooked or considered unimportant was then pointed out to them. It was far more effectively than a lecture would have been, and they went back to their desks realising just how vital their job was.

Ron revelled in the role, and became very good at it. Being happy at work made what he had lost so much easier to bear. On occasions, when he'd really got his teeth in to something he would stay on working, and Hermione had the novel experience of going home first to cook dinner and wait for him – this time knowing he was safe.

-o0o-

They still made regular trips to see their grand daughter, or occasionally have Rose and Scorpius up to stay. Baby Jean, as she was always called, was growing fast and changing between visits. Her hair was the most noticeable thing about her, it was half way between the Weasley Red and Malfoy White, strawberry blonde was probably the kindest description, but with Hermione's frizz to it. She looked more like Scorpius than Rose, with a thin face and his pale blue eyes. She was a very loving baby and always wanted a cuddle.

Scorpius told them that baby Jean had had an incredible effect on his father. He came over every day to see her, and would spend hours playing with her; simple childish games, obviously, like shaking a rattle or peek-a-boo.

'It's incredible' said Scorpius, 'almost as if he's learning with her. You can imagine that his childhood probably wasn't very happy, I don't think there was ever much love in the house and, of course, his teenage years – well you know more than I do.' Ron and Hermione didn't want to say much, so just nodded. 'He's never talked about them to me; I probably don't want to know.

I never really saw him when I was growing up, and mum had my grandmother to look after, of course. I was probably closer to the house elves, to be honest. I sometimes wonder why they ever married. I'm not sure they love each other.'

Hermione made sympathetic noises, but wanted to let him speak. This was obviously cathartic for him.

'I think that's why I took to Rose so quickly; she gave me a family for the first time in my life. Well, first off she was a friend; I'd never had one before, then almost more like a sister. She was somebody who would talk to me and wanted to be with me.'

Hermione was reminded of herself and Harry, he had had no family or friends either, and then a strange thought crossed her mind. What if Ron hadn't been around? What would have happened then? Perhaps she would now be Mrs Potter. Could it have happened? She'd honestly never considered that before. Anyway…

They went to Malfoy Manor for baby Jean's 1st birthday tea, taking Granny Jean with them. She was getting very old and frail but wanted to come. Even Hugo came along; which was a great surprise.

The best way for his parents to find out what Hugo was doing was to read the "Daily Prophet" as he very rarely called home or came to visit. He had established a position for himself as a feature writer, and had a regular column called "Weasley's Wizard World". He'd taken the precaution of clearing the title with Uncle George first, just in case. Hugo would file reports from wherever he fancied; the editor had given him a free rein as it was popular feature and kept up the readership numbers. One week he would be reporting from a Warlock convention in America, the next there would be an expose on the hard life being led by squibs who were neither accepted by wizards or able to cope in the muggle world. He had no qualms about criticising the Ministry if he felt they were lacking and on occasions Hermione found herself being forced to defend the Ministry's position against her son's allegations.

The birthday tea was a great success, and Hermione found herself watching Draco. He certainly did seem to have changed, and it was obvious that his granddaughter was the apple of his eye. She actually saw him smiling, properly smiling, and his eyes took on a very soft look whenever he held baby Jean.

He still remained politely distant with Ron and Hermione though, which she thought was a shame. As Ron had said all those years ago, they would never be friends, but she still felt that now was the time to let bygones be bygones. He obviously wanted it to stay the way it was, for Draco took great pains to ensure they were never in a position where they would be forced in to conversation.

Astoria was more forthcoming, but she had little in common with them; being just young enough to have avoided most of the past and spending her adult life alone with Draco. Scorpius was right; it had not been a marriage built on love.

Just before they left, Rose told them she was pregnant again, and baby Jean would have a little sister or brother just after Christmas. By this time, Hermione didn't mind being a granny, so gave her daughter a warm and loving hug. Ron was over the moon, but secretly hoped for a grandson this time.

The day had been quite a strain for Granny Jean, and she admitted on the way home that she was feeling very tired. Hermione persuaded her to stay with them overnight so she could have a proper rest. After a very light snack, Jean announced that she would go up to bed. Hermione looked in on her before going to bed herself, and found her mum still awake.

'It's been a lovely day, hasn't it dear?' Hermione agreed it had. 'It's very satisfying to see the family growing and being happy. I think Rose has made a good marriage; I'm pleased for her. Your father and I often regretted not having more children; it would have been nice for you to have a brother or sister. Did you ever miss them?'

'Not really mum. I suppose I never thought of it. I'm glad you didn't have lots though. Poor Ron got lost in the crowd being one of seven! Anyway, you get some sleep now.'

'I want you to know I'm very proud of you, Hermione, and I know dad was as well. We were worried about sending you off to that school, but it all seems to have turned out for the best, doesn't it? Could you pass me my handbag, dear? There's a picture of your father in it, and I feel better having him watching me as I sleep.'

The picture was propped on Jean's bedside table and, after a kiss, Hermione closed the door. She took her mother in a cup of tea the next morning but it was obvious, without touching her, to see that she had died peacefully in her sleep during the night, facing the picture of her husband.

-o0o-

Life continued, as it does. They had stood at the graveside, dressed in black on a beautiful summer day. Hermione had looked at Rose, carrying new life inside her and decided that this is how it should be. Each had their allotted time, and then made way for the next generation. It helped her through her grief.

Jean's will had been very simple; apart from things like jewellery which went to her daughter, the entire estate – house and accounts - had been left to Hugo. He kept the house as a base, deciding it was far better than the flat he had been renting since leaving school. One day, he might get married and have his family there. He'd always loved gran's house. It was a place of safety to him and had been ever since she'd taken him there that Christmas day so long ago.

That summer also saw Harry leaving the Ministry to take up his position as DADA teacher at Hogwarts, and Ginny leave the "Prophet" to start writing her book. Harry had never looked happier than when he sat with his oldest and best friends at dinner a few days later.

'Finally' he said. 'Finally I've got what I wanted. I can disappear from view and just be myself. I'm rather looking forward to it!'

'Are you sure you won't find it all a bit of a let down, mate?' Ron had asked him.

'No, certainly not. I think it's the right thing to do, and at the right time. I've got knowledge that I want to pass on, and maybe something more than that. I can hopefully reach out to the young and show them that there is a different way, a way that doesn't involve blood or who your parents are. I think that's my destiny in life.'

Of course, the press weren't going to let him go that easily, and so he gave quite a lot of interviews before he headed off to Hogwarts, just to keep them happy.

Ginny was also making her plans as well. Obviously Hermione and Ron would need to provide lots of information, but she wanted to go further than that. This would be, as far as possible, a true record of the war.

'Do you think Draco would talk to me?' she'd asked one day. They were doubtful, as he lived in virtual isolation. Surprisingly, though, he'd agreed, for the sake of his grandchildren. There was a real possibility he could die before they reached adulthood, and he wanted them to know the real him – warts and all. Draco also wanted to show the children there was another way.

-o0o-

Hermione and Ron had taken an early holiday that year, shortly after the funeral. They went, as muggles did now, taking the car across to France and driving down to Provence. Early summer is often good in that part for the world, and they enjoyed beautiful warm days that lacked the scouring heat of high summer.

Harry moving on caused them to take stock of their own lives, as they reached their fifties. The children were off their hands, and the house paid for. Both were in jobs they enjoyed, and which paid good money, so they quickly abandoned the idea of retiring early. Fifty was only approaching middle-age and they still felt they had a lot to give.

Hermione had not lost her reforming zeal and now felt the time was right to try for an elected Wizengemot; a true parliament representing all corners of the wizarding world. Actually, the spur had come from Hugo and his articles. Over and over again he had reported the disaffection of young people with the way things were done, and this was something she had also encountered during her annual Hogwarts visits.

The wizarding world was seen as almost an anachronism by the very people who would be its future. There was even talk that robes would shortly be abandoned at Hogwarts in favour of trousers or skirts and jackets. In the Ministry, it was now only the older employees who dressed that way. The Wizengemot was viewed in a similar light; old reactionaries trying to cling to the past, rather than looking to the future.

Ron's new training scheme would be introduced when they got back, which was one of the main reasons for getting away when they did. He wanted to be there for it starting with the new intake in September. Obviously there would be a few teething problems to be sorted out, and he wanted to see it though to completion, then beyond.

No, fifty was far too young to retire. They decided to give it another ten years, and then look again.


	24. Births, Marriages and Deaths

It looked as if, for once, their plans were working.

Hermione had a few chats and dinners with senior members of the Wizengamot to suggest her changes. To her surprise, she found them to be broadly acceptable; she was not the only person who had been reading Hugo's articles. Encouraged by this, she called a full meeting of the chamber, and in an impassioned thirty minute presentation laid out her ideas for a fully elected membership. She finished to a round of applause.

The next stage would be to take this to the general public. So far, she had been dealing with well educated and informed people; those who had wanted to serve. Whether the general public thought it was a good idea would be more difficult to say. The wizarding world had been a led society for many years, so it was debatable whether they would have the will to stand up and be counted.

At the risk of being accused of favouritism she decided that Hugo would be ideally placed to make the next step, and so asked him to call on her one day at the Ministry. It was rather strange to be interviewed, as a public figure, by her own son. To try and keep things as "arms length" as possible he called her Minister and she called him Mr. Weasley. Once they had stopped giggling they actually managed to get some talking done.

The article appeared about a week later, under Hugo's "WWW" column. The main thrust was that the Minister had seen democratically elected parliaments in various countries around the world and thought the time was right for this to be introduced in Britain. What she wanted to know now was did the people agree with her. She had called for a public debate on the issue and wanted to know their opinions.

Hermione sat back and waited for the responses to flood in. Two weeks later, she was still waiting. Twenty letters arrived. They were fairly evenly split; half thought it might possibly be a sort of idea, the other half wanted to know what was wrong with the old system which had served their parents and grandparents.

She tried public meetings in Hogsmeade, Godric's Hollow, Ottery St Catchpole and the Leaky Cauldron. At Godric's Hollow, three people turned up, but there had been a light drizzle all day, which probably explained it. They may be Wizards, but deep down they were still British. Apathy rules, but only because nobody else could be bothered to.

As a final resort, she used her annual Hogwarts visit to push her case for an elected Wizengamot. This was where she had always found an enthusiasm for the idea. After all, they were young and enthusiastic and the future leaders. This time she spoke to the whole school, not just the NEWT students, and encouraged them to write to her with their views. She got five letters; two from first years who wanted to know what her favourite colour was, and could she bring in a law that said they didn't have to eat cabbage.

The plans were quietly shelved, and Hugo went back to reporting on conventions.

-o0o-

In the middle of all this, Rose had her second baby, born on New Year's Day which was nice and easy to remember. This time she had a boy, whom they named Draco Ronald. He too had the Malfoy/ Weasley hair style, strawberry blonde and frizzy, just like his sister.

Whilst Baby Jean was the first, it was Baby Draco who established a tradition in the household. On his first birthday, Rose announced she was expecting again. It was to continue with the next three children; she and Scorpius finally deciding that six was enough. To within a few weeks, there were eighteen months between each child; June and January were very busy months for parties in Malfoy Manor. After her fourth, Hermione asked Rose if she had missed any "special" lesson at school. Rose laughed, 'Oh Mum! We love having children around us. They're all planned, every single one of them. We want a house full of children.'

Those early and middle years of their fifties were punctuated by births, marriages and deaths. The Weasley clan was constantly expanding as their nieces and nephews got married and had children (though not necessarily in that order). Fleur had taken Molly's place as the family matriarch, and it was to her that the unenviable task of informing the rest of the family fell. Every event would be reported to her, and she would have to do the flooing, owling or phoning to pass on the message.

Occasionally, familiar names from the past would crop up: a nephew marrying a Bones here, a niece becoming engaged to a Finch-Fletchley there. There was even a Creevey thrown in to the mix. One name in particular stood out as Fred Weasley married Sitara Finnegan. That one certainly needed investigation, and they found it to be as they imagined. Their old school friends Seamus Finnegan and Parvati Patil had indeed married, though subsequently divorced.

Of course, as Hermione had seen, the new generations replace the old, and there were funerals to attend as well. Their old professors didn't live for ever and they stood with heads bowed and tears flowing as McGonagall, Slughorn, Flitwick, Kingsley Shacklebolt and others were laid to rest.

On these occasions they could catch up with Harry, now firmly established at the teacher's table in Hogwarts. He, at least, was having the time of his life. He had taken naturally to teaching, far more so than Hermione had done in her rather dismal attempt. Having had a difficult childhood himself, he knew how to deal with those children who were not quite up to scratch, and never needed to raise his voice. Of course, it did help that the children would go from Binn's history lesson to being taught by the "Chosen One" himself. Even Binns was getting the hang of things, and Harry was invited to give one lesson a year in History of Magic. He was always announced in the same way.

'You have heard the History of the last wizard war, history based on the evidence gathered' he would say in his high, reedy voice 'but History is about people. So here, to put some flesh on the bones is the very man who was at the centre of it all, Mr. Peters.'

The class always looked up in surprise, wondering who was going to talk to them. Harry never worked out if it was done on purpose, or not.

DADA itself had become one of the most popular lessons in the school, and not just for the professor teaching it. Harry had seen plenty of examples of how it should, and should not, be taught. His lessons were a combination of Remus Lupin's practicals and Mad-eye Moody's exploration. By the end of the fourth year, students were expected to be able to deal with Boggarts, Grindylows and Redcaps. In the sixth year, NEWT students knew what the Imperius curse looked and felt like, and how to resist it.

Harry had been nervous the first time he introduced a Boggart, wondering what it would turn in to now for him. He'd practiced in his room, with another teacher on standby, just in case. He had seen Ginny, dead.

-o0o-

Ron continued to work on his training schemes. Unlike previous Junior Undersecretaries in the role, he realised the importance of keeping things up-to-date. At the end of each year, exam paper were scrutinised in great detail to see if there were any problems with the way the syllabus was being taught. If more than half the class failed a particular question that was fed back to the instructor to make sure proper emphasis was given next year.

Operational reports were also studied so that trends in the criminal world could be seen and built in to the training. Ron was not the last auror to be shot, so dealing with firearms became an essential lesson. Research was done on to the most effective way of dealing with a bullet; was it a charm or protective clothing?

Ron was enjoying his job and keeping up with his exercises as well. His walking had improved, and now he hardly needed to use his sticks. That was to be his literal downfall. It was such a stupid, stupid incident.

Coming back to his office one day he had slipped going down a short flight of stairs. Instinctively he had put his leg out to brace himself. His full weight had come down on it, and he twisted as he fell.

Hermione was in her office writing a speech she would give later that week when her secretary came in to tell her that her husband had had a fall, and the first aid people had contacted St Mungo's to have him evacuated. She immediately went to him, to find he was still lying on the floor. The first aiders had, wisely, decided they were not going to try and move him because of the potential risk to his spine.

Hermione sat next to him on the floor and held his hand. He looked at her with a worried frown on his face.

'I can't feel anything in my legs at all.'

'Maybe you've just jarred something. You've fallen before and it's been alright. Try not to worry about it; we'll get you checked out by the healers.'

It took them a long time to get him on the stretcher, and then strap him down securely before he could be taken to the hospital. Hermione went with them, and once again experienced the desolation of sitting outside a room whilst others rushed past, ignoring her. At least this time she knew he would live.

Eventually a healer came out to her. 'We've run a series of tests, Mrs Weasley, and I'm afraid it is not look good news. We haven't told him yet, would you like to be with him?' She nodded and followed him in to the room, sitting by Ron and holding his hand.

'Mr Weasley, our tests have shown that you have suffered further damage to the nerves in your back with this fall. We have a series of treatments we are going to try, but it is probably better if you realise at this stage that they have only a small chance of success. The most likely prognosis is that you will never walk again. I'm sorry. I'll leave you with your wife for a moment if you wish.' Ron nodded dully and the healer left the room.

Hermione sat holding his hand and stroking his head as the tears fell.

Ron was wired up and strapped until he looked like a mummy to keep him perfectly still, in the hope that his nerves could recover something. He went through intensive physiotherapy, and even electrical treatments, all to no avail. This time, there would be no cure, no remission.

They thought long and hard about what to do next. He could still work, of course, his brain had not been affected. There would be difficulties in getting him to the Ministry, but none of them were insurmountable. They could drive in every day, and parking could be organised. Ramps could be put in, or his office moved to near a lift.

Individually, yes, the problems could be overcome; but taken together, it looked more difficult. Hermione had already cancelled her trip to the European Ministers for Magic summit due to Ron being in hospital. Would she be able to go in the future? They would need a driver to take him in to work, and somebody would have to be at home. What if he had a fall there? They would need a nurse, or somebody, he couldn't be left on his own for long periods.

'No, Ron, it isn't going to work, is it? Eventually something would go wrong, and I could never rest easily.'

'What do you suggest then?'

'I think it's about time I called the Wizengamot again, don't you?'

'I'm so sorry, love. I've always held you back, haven't I?'

'Don't be silly, of course not. Remember, we had our Grand Plan too. Give it until we were sixty then have another look, yes? Well, we're just putting it in to operation a bit early, that's all.'

She looked at him, still with love and affection in her eyes.

'You know, now I've made my mind up, I'm not sorry. I never got through the one thing I always wanted, to get the Wizengamot elected. That knocked the stuffing out of me a bit. Maybe it's time to give somebody else a go.'

The Wizengamot was duly called and she explained the situation to them. As with all great matters of state, it wasn't a complete surprise. The press had been notified the Minister was to make an important announcement. The Chief Warlock, a distant cousin of Kingsley Shacklebolt, had been tipped off by Hermione, and she'd had dinner one evening with James Corner.

This time, she said to the assembled chamber, she was not asking for a leave of absence. This time, she was notifying them of her intention to step down, at the soonest possible opportunity. She had already decided on her successor.

The Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot stood and made a very moving speech. He fully understood her reasons for resigning, and the Wizengamot would not stand in her way. She and her husband had served the Ministry and the wizards of Britain loyally and faithfully for many years. Her husband had sacrificed his health to uphold law and order.

Of course, even at the highest level, there is still room for the occasional surprise.

'Mrs Weasley, Hermione, you will notice there are only forty-nine of us present here today, due to the death of one of our colleagues. As Minister, you were not allowed to sit with us, but you have now retired. I can think of no more suitable person to make up our numbers. Will you allow yourself to be nominated?'

'Yes. Yes, of course I will.'

The Chief Warlock turned to assembly. 'May I call for a vote?' Forty-nine hands were raised. The "Daily Prophet" got a lovely photograph of her wiping away the tears.

-o0o-

By necessity, she wanted a quick handover and James Corner already had some experience of the job anyway. She was gone within the month.

The house was in chaos for a while whilst they had it adapted for Ron, who had taken to his new status much better than she had hoped. This time he was much better equipped to deal with the future. He still had his wife, he still had a life to lead, and he still had a family.

In many ways, and he wasn't just putting a brave face on things, he'd got what he wanted all those years ago. The children were grown up and he had his Hermione back. OK, they couldn't go anywhere by broomstick, but that didn't matter. Now they had all the time in the world together.

* * *

There will be two more chapters to come before my story – their story – ends, as end it must.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank all of you for reading my little work. I hope you have enjoyed it.

I would also like to thank those of you who felt it worthy of a place on your favourites list. I am honoured.

Finally, I would like to thank all those who have taken the time to review, but particularly Amaherst, Emnic, HPfan626, Lia-the-true-Gryffindor and Rainwhiskers Loyalty. Thanks guys, your reviews really do make a difference when the block sets in.

* * *


	25. All the time in the world

Finally, their time was their own, and they had reached their golden age. They had the great pleasure of turning the alarm clock off, knowing that in future it would only be used on special occasions; as they could get up when they wanted from now on. Some days, when the weather was bad, they wouldn't bother and just lay there talking and cuddling; Hermione occasionally making raids on the kitchen and coming back with toast or biscuits and cups of tea.

When she was called to the Wizengamot she did have to get up, of course. Then she would dress with great care and do something with her hair, which had now turned grey. She had kept it short. Despite Ron's pleas to let it grow long she preferred it shorter; it was so much easier to manage. She would head off to the Ministry to listen to cases or pleas, leaving Ron at home but checking every hour that he was still alright. He was particularly careful on these days, to make sure she wasn't disturbed and only once did she have to come home when he had over-reached himself and fallen from his chair. She called him a 'silly old fool', gave him a kiss and headed back again.

Ron took his loss of mobility with fortitude. He could still do most things as the house had been designed around him. Doors were not a problem, of course, as they could be opened with an _Alohomora_ and ramps meant he could get in to the garden which had paths and raised beds so he could get around and still do things. It was all planned out so that he did as much for himself as possible. For example, Hermione had wanted to move their bedroom downstairs, but he insisted it stayed where it was and had a lift put in, though she didn't see why she couldn't just use a hover charm. It wasn't that he didn't trust her, but he never felt entirely comfortable with it. There was a lift to get him in and out of the bath as well.

Their second best days were those in summer when they would go out in to the garden. They would potter around for a couple of hours until the sun got too hot for them then retire in to the shade. Ron had to be careful in the sun now, as it would burn his bald patch. They'd built a sort of trellis near Rose's rose and covered it with climbing plants and would sit there to have lunch and look out over the garden.

'Do you ever miss it? The Ministry and power?' he would ask her.

'Not one bit' was always her reply. 'I like it now, being my own boss, don't you?'

He took her hand and laughed. 'I spent my first eleven years being told what to do by my mum, and the last fifty odd being told what to do by you! Even the plants tell me when I have to water them.'

'I'm not really bossy, am I?'

'Is that in comparison to mum and Jean?' he shot back with a twinkle in his eye. She gave him a slap.

The best days of all, though, were when they went visiting. They had a specially adapted car, so that his chair could be slotted straight in to it and would go off to visit family. At least once a year, they would do a "grand tour" visiting Bill and George, and calling in on Percy, though they never stayed that long with him.

Bill and Fleur were still at Shell Cottage; he looking even more like Mad-eye Moody as he aged, and Fleur grew old gracefully and serenely. She had kept her white blonde hair long, and could still turn on the old Veela charm. Ron had always considered her the most beautiful woman in the world, and was still a little in love with her and she knew it; she would always emphasise her French accent a 'leetle more' when he was around. Ron and Hermione always stayed a few days with them, and even though he was in his sixties Ron would look at her then get embarrassed when he was caught out. Hermione use to pretend to get jealous and give him a hard time. On those visits they never missed a trip to Dobby's grave, laying fresh flowers.

At George and Angelina's they had a whale of a time, and always seemed to stay up later, and drink a little more, than they should given their age. George had never really grown up. With Percy, it was different. They would normally only stay for a meal, and Ron would be on his best behaviour, sticking out his little finger whilst drinking tea, or making excruciatingly polite conversation to try and make Hermione giggle. Percy and Audrey were as boring as ever, he only ever wanted to talk about their time at the Ministry, and it was a relief to get away.

On these visits they could catch up on what the "children" were doing, although they were all grown up and most had families of their own. As is often the case in large families, matching them up required a sort of code; so Lucy became "Lucy – Percy's youngest". It got even worse when they started having children of their own, so they would talk about the exploits of "Septimus – George's Fred's eldest"

Their most frequent trip, of course, was down to see Rose in Gloucestershire. With six children it was impossible for them to come up to her parents. Rose had turned in to an Earth Mother and, to Hermione's eye, the children were allowed too much freedom. They were normally to be found, in an assortment of clothing that would make Luna Lovegood blush, rampaging around the estate. Jean, being the eldest, was in charge and as bossy as her gran and great gran ever were. Often she would have the youngest – George – on her hip. As you know, there were six in all, each eighteen months apart, so it's time for a roll call.

Jean looked like her father, only with Hermione's hair in strawberry blonde. Then came Draco Ronald, a male version of Jean. Hermione was far more like her gran; if there was a quite, bookish one, it was she. She also had darker hair than the rest, though it was straight not frizzy. Astoria was so like Ginny, right down to her red hair, it looked like she was in the wrong family, whereas Ginevra (never Ginny) was nothing like her namesake at all. She had her other gran's rather mousey appearance. The baby, George, was the spitting image of his dad.

The children came and went as they pleased; the only room forbidden to them was "Mummy and Daddy's Potion Room". Meal times were organised chaos and often turned in to a finger buffet, the children drifting in and out depending on whether they were hungry or not. During the evening, they all congregated in Draco's old day room where they would listen to the radio or play games. Bedtime was when they got tired, or fell asleep somewhere and had to be carried upstairs.

'Rose, dear, you know I've never been one to push my ideas forward…' Rose let out a shriek of laughter.

'Oh mum! And before you start, yes we think we have got it right. We're letting them be children. Don't worry; they won't grow up to be hooligans. Jean has started having some lessons now she's older, and the others will follow along. By the time they get to Hogwarts they'll all be able to read and write and know their numbers. Actually, Draco and Hermione are already asking when they can start having lessons as well. They see it as a sign they're growing up. But for now we want them to learn by having fun and exploring and asking questions.'

'And what about you, dear?'

Rose put her face in her hands in an exasperated fashion. 'I've still got everything I want! Scorp, the family, the house, growing things and making potions – it's perfect.' She looked down at her hands, with soil under the fingernails, and the slightly shapeless dress she had on. 'It isn't glamorous, I know. One day, when the children are all at school then – maybe – I'll grow up and be all middle class like you want me to be. I'll wear proper frocks and put on some make-up.'

'You always used to, when you were younger, and you loved going shopping.'

'That was then, this is now.'

The children's favourite place, though, was the Lodge where they would descend on Gran and Granddad Malfoy. Draco truly loved his grandchildren and they him. He was never too tired to play with them or read stories. It was, as Scorpius had once said, an adventure for him and in his old age he discovered all the stories he had never been read as a child, and the games he had never played.

She came across him once, unexpectedly, whilst walking in the grounds early one morning. He started and turned away.

'Draco, please don't go.' He turned back towards her, looking pensive. 'We've never really spoken, have we? Yet we have so much in common now.'

'We don't have that much in common.' He couldn't look her in the eye. 'Our children do, but not us.' He paused, searching for the right words. 'It isn't you, not who you are, or what your parents were, don't misunderstand me. All that has gone, I realise that I was wrong. So, so wrong.' He smiled slightly. 'You remind me of the thing I could have had, if only it had been different.'

'What thing, Draco?'

He looked around. 'Astoria will be awake soon. I always make her tea, I have to go. Goodbye…Hermione.'

He walked off, leaving her standing and staring in to space. Surely not? She walked slowly back to the house, lost in her thoughts.

-o0o-

The first two weeks of August were reserved for the best trip of all. That was when they went to Hogwarts to see Harry and Ginny. Their spirits would lift as soon as they began to recognise the hills and woods that had been familiar to them now for well over fifty years. There were always welcomed by the school and its headmaster, having such a special place in its history, and were given a room on the ground floor so access was easy for them. Even Hermione wasn't too keen on stairs anymore and her annual trip to their old Common Room was becoming a bit of a pilgrimage. She always stopped at the plaque of course, but now with less sadness on her face. 'We'll make that shopping trip yet' she used to say - to herself obviously.

Harry hadn't changed much over the years; his hair was as unruly as ever, even though it was steel grey now and not black. He was Head of Gryffindor House, and still having the time of his life. Never had they seen anybody so _contented_. They would sit out on the terrace overlooking the lake as the sun went down of an evening, reminiscing about the past and hearing about his plans for the future. Harry had already been told that he would be the next headmaster, but was happy to wait out his time; he was in no rush now

Ginny, much to everybody's disgust, kept her carrot coloured mane right to the very end. She had a strange role in the school, and totally unofficial. She'd become a cross between everybody's granny and an agony aunt. Children who had problems, or were lonely, or had trouble with a relationship would go to see her, knowing they would receive a friendly ear, a cup of tea and normally a biscuit. She was never judgemental, preferring to encourage the children to work through to their own solution, giving them a little nudge if necessary.

Occasionally, as happens, she would have to prepare a girl for that conversation with her parents that no girl wants to have. They would come to her; confused and frightened, sometimes with a boy, sometimes not. Calmly she would explain what options were open to them and emphasise that the school would be as helpful and supportive as necessary, but that it was in everybody's best interest to get the parents involved as soon as possible. Whenever she could, she encouraged parents to come to the school; it was often easier that way. Then, if that was what was decided, she would help look after the babies so that the girl could carry on with her education. One year, she had three on the go, and very fond of them she became.

She also continued to work on her book. The Ministry had given her permission to use their archives, so she would travel up to London, staying at Grimmauld Place with James and his family. Then she would have to harden her heart and read the statements and old court records of Death Eater trials, always feeling a pang in her heart when a familiar name came up. The most difficult were the records from the trial of the Carrows. Her testimony was in front of her, and she was forced to live again the punishments they had meted out to her and so many others. She had tried to get permission for a trip to Askaban, a few were still alive and being held, but they either refused to speak to her or were so old there would have been no point. Dolores Umbridge had not spoken a coherent word in ten years.

She had, however, been to see Draco Malfoy, the year Jean started at Hogwarts, staying with Rose and Scorpius. Draco had poured his heart out to her, telling her everything he could remember from that time. It was a true release for him, he held nothing back and had cried freely at the end of it. Less than a week later, Astoria had been unable to wake him, but he had died at peace with himself

-o0o-

It was the summer after Jean's third year, and baby Draco's first that Harry was able to give them the news they had wanted to hear for a long time. Baby Hermione would start at Hogwarts with a new Headmaster. Harry had finally got the position he had wanted. He had come home. He was fired up with enthusiasm for the job, and told them all about the plans he had. He wanted to make the Inter-house Cup more open; not just Quidditch and House Points, but a true reflection of talents and abilities. There would be Wizard Chess competitions, maybe even Gobstones. He wanted as many pupils involved as possible.

There was other thing he had planned as well, and baby Hermione was a marker for it.

'Have you realised that her seventh year will be the fiftieth anniversary of the battle?' It came as a shock to both Ron and Hermione. Was it honestly that long ago? A lifetime ago? 'I want to rededicate the plaque, and get everybody up here I can. I've got another idea as well. I don't just want to honour the dead, but those who lived. I'm going to use one of the walls in the Great Hall to list all the names of those who fought on our side – everybody. Ginny's book is helping with the list. I even know what's going over the top. Remember what Dubledore said after Cedric Diggory was killed?'

Hermione smiled. 'About choosing between what is right and what is easy?'

'That's right, I think its fitting.'

Ron looked staggered. 'How can you remember all that stuff, Hermione?'

Harry smiled 'The smartest witch of her generation, remember?'

-o0o-

Ron missed the service by two years. They had travelled back from Hogwarts as usual after staying with Harry and Ginny, but the next day he said he felt too tired to get up. Hermione left him to rest, but became worried when he was still tired the day after that. Mainly for her benefit, he forced himself to get up, but didn't have the energy to do anything.

On the third day she called the healer, who examined Ron then came out to her looking very grim.

'There is nothing specifically wrong with your husband, apart from his age and the injuries he has suffered. He may improve slightly with time, but you should face the fact that he will probably never be fully active again. There may be good days and not so good. I'm sorry.'

'How long does he have?'

'I can't say. It may be a week, or months, but I think it will be peaceful. I'll call in every now and again to keep an eye on him.'

'Should I tell him?'

'I think it is probably best not too.'

Those last few weeks were a time of quiet contentment, surprisingly. On good days, whilst the weather stayed fine, she would take Ron out in to the garden to sit by Rose's rose, and they would hold hands and talk quietly of their life together. Both realised that the other knew what was coming, so it wasn't necessary to dwell on the future. They lived each minute for here and now, and treated it as if it were their last.

It was a dull November day when Hermione woke to find Ron already with his eyes open beside her. She made to get up and put the kettle on.

'Could you just hold me, please?' he asked her. She did, and they stayed like that for several hours until, with almost a sigh, his breathing ceased.


	26. On

At first, Hermione could see no reason to go on. Why not join Ron as soon as possible? Then, as she stood by his graveside, they came to her. First Rose and Scorpius and Hugo, then her grandchildren, Harry and Ginny and all the rest of her family and friends. She was loved and wanted, and that gave her the strength to continue. She still had a role in life.

Rose came back to the house with her, to stay for a few days and make the future alone not quite so immediate. They began the task of sorting out his things; that was the worst part. A life being bagged up for disposal; some to be given away, most to be thrown. Then Rose went home and she was by herself; for the first time in her life, she realised.

Slowly, with time, the dark thoughts lifted and she turned her face once more to the sun. There were still visits to be made, and jobs to be done. She could eat what she wanted, and when she wanted. Her life was her own.

Her grandchildren wrote to her regularly from school, not just out of duty but because they could talk to her about things they didn't want to discuss with their parents.

Poor Ginevra had a huge crush on a boy, and didn't know what to do about it. That made Hermione smile; maybe it was a curse on the name? She wrote back, giving the same advice as she had given to a young girl at a similar age over fifty years ago, and suggesting that a talk to Great Aunt Ginny, who knew about these things, would help as well.

Astoria had even bigger problems. Compared to the others, she wasn't the prettiest, or the brightest, or the most popular; instead she just seemed to drift along in their wake. Now she'd found herself a boyfriend and been swept off her feet. Ginny wrote that he was a rather swaggering youth from a very rich family; very good at Quidditch and a target for all the other girls. However, for some reason he had taken up with Astoria, and her parents were none too keen on the idea.

'What can I do, Granny?' Astoria wrote, in a letter smudged with tears, 'They'll never understand him, or accept him. I love him, but what do they know about love? Will I be forced to choose between them?'

Hermione wrote back and said not to be too sure that her parents didn't know anything. They had been young once themselves, and very deeply in love, and had parents of their own to deal with. She should talk to her mother, who would understand.

-o0o-

The fiftieth anniversary of the battle saw her travelling up to Hogwarts from King's Cross Station. As Harry had hoped, all the old survivors wanted to return, but they were all getting on a bit now so a special trip was arranged for the Hogwart's Express. Even the first years who had been evacuated from the school were in their sixties, and Hermione's year were fast approaching seventy. Some of the others who had come to fight were even older. Charlie had made the trip from Romania and stood in a group with George and Percy.

They gathered on the platform; distinguished and grey haired now, the men in severe black suits, the women with fresh perms and new robes. There were lots of hats on display. Some used sticks to get around, but the atmosphere resembled that of the 1st of September all those years ago. Old friends were greeted and nicknames, whose origins were lost in the mists of time, rang through the air. There was more of a stately procession on to the train than a rush for seats, but people still walked up and down the corridors looking for a compartment.

Hermione found herself sitting with her old friends; Luna, Dean, Seamus and Parvati, who had remained friends despite their marital break up. Of course, there were faces missing. Harry, Ginny and Neville were already at the school, and there was no Ron. Only twice before had she made this trip without him, and that had been in their second and sixth years. That thought upset her, and it showed on her face. Parvati came to give her a shoulder to cry on, and the men made sympathetic noises.

However, once they got underway she pulled herself together, and the trip passed in happy reminiscences. Soon the tears were replaced with laughter, and she even told them the full story about Ron, Lavender and the canaries. Seamus and Dean filled her in about Ron's reaction when he got back to the dorm that night, and his shocked realisation of the fact that she might just have been in love with him.

'I remember him saying' said Dean, actually giggling 'that he'd once asked you to write a book about how to understand all the mad things women do and what they actually mean and he wished you had.'

'That would have come in useful for a few of us' said Seamus, with a sad smile at Parvati.

'So what did happen to you two?' asked Hermione. 'You still seem friends.'

'Ah, we became friends again a long time afterwards,' said Parvati. 'Whilst we were married I thought the children were more important than him…'

'…and I thought earning money was more important than her' finished Seamus. 'When the children grew up, we were strangers, and it seemed easier to split up than start again.'

'That nearly happened to Newt and me' added Luna, absent mindedly scratching her nose. 'Fortunately we'd arranged an expedition to go after the Crumpled horn Snorkack when Lorcan and Lysander started at Hogwarts. We never found one, but we found each other.'

-o0o-

At Hogsmeade Station, the carriages were lined up ready to meet them, but there was no Hagrid on the platform; he was another "absent friend". Up at the school, they all filed in to the Great Hall and sat at their old house tables. Neville and Ginny came to join the Gryffindors, as did Nearly Headless Nick. The current pupils sat amongst them and around them at various forms and benches that had been conjured up from who knows where. Of course, many of them had grandparents in the room, and called out enthusiastically. The hall was packed, and rather noisy.

Harry stood at the teacher's table and called for silence. 'Many of you will remember our old Headmaster saying "There is a time for speech making, but this is not it". Tuck in.' The plates in front of them filled with food.

Harry didn't sit down, but moved from table to table greeting everybody. He remembered most of the names, but there was an awkward moment when he met Cho. He was very conscious of Ginny looking at him, and had to smile. As if!

After the plates were emptied, he went back to the dais, and welcomed them all. They drank a toast to those who could not be with them tonight, and Hermione found herself welling up again.

'Our pupils have kindly agreed to give up their dorms for tonight. So, our guests can have their old beds back, if they wish – and are capable of climbing the stairs!' That got a big laugh and people began filing out.

It was wonderful to be back in the Common Room again. They sat and talked, then made their way to their old dorms. Hermione and Parvati sat and looked at Lavender's bed and had a little cry with each other.

Seamus and Dean were joined by Harry and Neville, who produced a bottle of fire whiskey. They toasted the empty bed, and then they all got rather drunk.

The next morning, people made their way downstairs for breakfast before heading out in to the grounds. The actual dedication would take place at noon, so an exhibition Quidditch match had been arranged. They sat in that place of so many memories, and watched a new generation flying through the air. It must have been a co-incidence, but the snitch was caught just in time for them to make their way back to the school.

They stood in the Entrance hall for the re-dedication of the plaque to the fallen, a simple yet moving ceremony where the school prefects, from all the Houses, came forward to read out a name in turn. Then they went in to the Great Hall and stood facing one of the side walls. The Head Boy and Head Girl came forward and, with a wave of their wands, revealed the memorial to the survivors. Across the top was, as Hermione had guessed, Dumbledore's words on choosing between right and easy. Below, a list of those who had fought to defend Hogwarts, and had lived to tell the tale. Everybody got a mention, including the Centaurs, House Elves and Gawp.

They stood, with their arms around each other and their grandchildren, searching for names and rekindling memories, and each one of them felt the years roll back until they were, once more, teenagers and young adults who had just survived the most horrific experience of their lives. Then, spontaneously, everybody gathered there sang the school song. Gratifyingly, it was as awful as they all remembered it to be.

As the train pulled out of Hogsmeade station for the return journey to London, Hermione looked up at the castle wondering if she would ever see it again. She would, just once more.

She was glad to get home, it had been a long trip, and the house seemed to wrap itself around her like a blanket. She slept well and long that night, and awoke refreshed.

Life continued on its well ordered path as the seasons rolled round. Her grandchildren were growing up and starting to make their own way in the world and she was starting to look forward to the next set of babies. Six grandchildren! How many great-grandchildren will I see? I hope it's more than one. Double figures might be good.

-o0o-

Ginny came through on the floo one night; Hogwarts had never been any good for phone calls. She was crying and terribly upset. Harry had had some kind of attack and was desperate to see her. Could she come up as quickly as possible? He was getting very agitated, and Ginny was worried it was making him worse.

With her heart in her mouth, Hermione threw some powder in the fireplace and travelled by floo, arriving in the Headmasters study rather unsteady on her feet.

Ginny was waiting for her and took her straight through in to the bedroom. Harry was lying in bed, still and pale and braething only shallowly. The children, though all adults by now of course, stood around with concern on their faces. Harry saw her and tried to smile.

'You came. I knew. Alone, us.'

They all looked at each other rather confused. 'Alone' repeated Harry and everybody left apart from Hermione, who crossed to his bed.

'Elder wand' he whispered.

'What about it, Harry?'

'Me and you now. Only ones. We know. Bring it.'

'Now?'

'No. At the close. To my grave. Please.'

'Of course I will, Harry. But there's no rush. You rest now, you'll get better. When the time comes, I'll bring it.'

'Soon' said Harry, simply. 'Goodbye, big sister.'

'Goodbye.' The tears ran down her face and she made no attempt to stop them. 'Little brother.'

Harry spoke only once more, about an hour later as they sat by his side. 'Ginny.'

Harry was to be buried at Hogwarts, alongside Dumbledore. It had all been arranged; Hermione was to enter Dumbledore's tomb to retrieve…an object Harry had placed there many years ago. It was to be returned before the mausoleum surrounded him.

All the great and the good gathered at Hogwarts that day, along with pupils and ex-pupils to say goodbye not only to their Headmaster, but to Harry Potter. They came to pay their respects, but also to say 'Thank you' to the man who had saved them all when he was only eighteen years old. Ginny sat supported by James and Albus, desolate and inconsolable.

Hermione sat with Rose and Hugo, staring out over the lake. To her, Harry Potter was not a hero, not the "Chosen One". He was her oldest and most constant friend, her rock, her brother – and now he was gone.

As the eulogy ended, she stood and walked towards Dumbledore's tomb. A murmur ran through the crowd. As she approached the walls, she realised she didn't know how to open it. Then she smiled, and as she placed her hand upon the smooth white marble she said 'Professor, it's me, Hermione Granger. Harry sent me.' A door opened in the side and she entered.

It was dark, but not at all scary. How could Dumbledore's tomb be scary? He lay upon the marble table, as though asleep. Time had not affected his body at all. There in his hands, which were folded across his chest, was the Elder Wand. She picked it up; it felt cold.

She left the tomb, which sealed behind her, and crossed to Harry. He too looked at peace. As she placed the Elder Wand next to his holly one, a single spark broke from the tip and soared in to the sky where it formed in to stag which galloped away. Then the Elder Wand crumbled in to dust and blew away on the wind, it's power broken at last.

-o0o-

Hermione spoke to Ginny later that day, asking what her plans were. Ginny looked suddenly old and frail, as if she'd aged twenty years in a single day.

'The school have said I can stay on, if I want to, but I'm not sure I do. And James has asked me to move back to Grimmauld Place, but I don't want to be a burden to them. They have their own lives to lead.'

'Why not come to me? There's plenty of room, and you know the house.'

'Could I, Hermione? Could I really? Oh, thank you!'

The two old friends hugged each other. Their final years would be spent together, and the fear of a long lonely future had been lifted. If they were younger, they would have whooped and screamed and danced.

And so began the new age of their twilight years. There was nothing remarkable or exciting about it; just two dear friends together at last. They both lived to see great-grandchildren, though neither got to double figures.

-o0o-

Hermione awoke in the pale light of dawn as her door opened. She expected it to be Ginny, bringing her a cup of tea. But it wasn't.

It was Ron. Ron who was young and whole and vibrant. He crossed silently to her side and looked down at her smiling and holding out his hand.

'Do you want to come with me?'

'Where?'

'On.'

'I won't be able to keep up with you.'

'Try it.'

She took his hand and stood. Power and vigour flowed back in to her limbs and she looked down. Her body was young and firm and strong, her hair long and brown and frizzy.

'I've always preferred it that way', said Ron, taking her in his arms.

'How old am I?'

'As old as you want to be.'

'Will we be together now for all time?'

His face showed a nervous concern. 'Until the end of time, but only if you want to be.' The kiss she gave him answered all his doubts.

'Then I'll come with you. Is Harry there?'

'He's here' said Harry, as he walked in to the room. He too was young again, with his black hair sticking out at all angles.

Hermione threw herself at him 'Hello, little brother.' He hugged her back, a huge smile on his face. 'Hello, big sister.'

She linked arms with the two people who meant most to her in the whole Universe, and beamed at them.

'On, then.'

Together, the Golden Trio walked forward in to eternity.


End file.
